Saving Grace
by Firisu
Summary: AU. After being raped and left for dead, Bella is ready to give up on life. Then along comes Edward Cullen, who is determined to catch the culprit. But what happens when Bella finds out her savior has a past connected to her attacker? Canon pairings.
1. Sometimes I Wish I Could Save You

~*~

_Love;_

_that which transcends__ age, gender_

_and species._

~*~

* * *

**Sav****ing Grace**

Chapter One:  
_**S**__**ometimes I wish I could save you.**_

* * *

The alleyway was dark and narrow, too far from the reach of streetlights to receive a ray of luminance. No ordinary human would dare invade upon these shadows. So it was here that Isabella Swan hid.

What was she afraid of? That was a question with scores of answers. But they could all be linked back to the same thing: life.

She wished she was dead; it had to be better than living in a world where nothing seemed to be going right for her. She caused others pain; whether directly or indirectly, it didn't matter in her mind. A plague upon her friends—not that she had many—and family; that's what she was.

Bella held her legs close to her chest as the shivers ran through her body. Her torn clothes were wrapped loosely around her skin, insufficient protection from the cold winter breeze that drifted through the lively city. She wished she still had her coat; that had been the first thing forcefully taken from her preceding the traumatic ordeal.

That memory stirred up a sob in her throat; she put a hand over her mouth to smother it. Even though nobody was likely to hear her amidst the bustling sounds of busy city life, she wasn't willing to take any chances. She tried her best to suppress the frantic screams and cries that threatened to escape her lips as she unwillingly thought over the events of tonight. The feel of rough, cold hands tracing her body, the sting of sharp fingernails against her flesh; they were all memories she couldn't seem to erase from her mind. Fear and disgrace mixed themselves in her soul, leaving her with a bitter, sickening feeling at the pit of her stomach.

She let her face fall onto her knees, hiding the tears that streamed endlessly down her cheek.

"Are you alright there?"

The unfamiliar voice gave her a shock; she didn't expect anyone to find her here. However, at the same time, it presented her with a brief flicker of hope; the words sounded gentle, sincere. Her heart pounded unbearably hard against her chest, expectation and apprehension warring inside her. She should have been scared, terrified, because it wasn't like anyone would gain from helping her; it would most likely be the exact opposite, another man out to use her and leave her for dead.

At any rate, her curiosity and longing for comfort unconsciously led her to raise her head and look her savior—she hoped that's what he was—in the eyes.

The person she saw standing tall before her was a teenage boy who looked no more than seventeen years of age. His tousled bronze hair could almost light up the dim alley. The expression he wore on his face was both kind and cautious at the same time; it seemed as if he, too, was keeping an eye out for something sinister to appear from the shadows.

The boy held out his hand.

She could only stare at it, unsure of his intentions.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you."

She bit her lip. It didn't sound like he was lying, but she had been tricked one too many times to trust a complete stranger, let alone one who wandered these treacherous urban streets in the dark of night.

"Edward, we need to get moving; they're coming."

Bella started at the second voice. It was also compassionate and genuine, though it held more of an authoritative ring. She peered past the first boy—Edward, that is; she committed the name to memory—and studied the man standing behind him.

He was leaning formally against the brick wall that composed one side of the alley; it looked like he was intentionally staying hidden within the darkest part of the shadows. But due to their close proximity, Bella could still make out his features.

Styled blonde hair framed the smooth, angular face. He looked older than the boy but not by much; perhaps in his mid-twenties. However, his somber expression spoke of maturity long beyond his years.

"I know that, Carlisle." Edward's reply was almost silent, yet Bella could tell his elder had clearly heard it from the way Carlisle gave a sharp nod of his head.

Edward bent down and smiled at eyelevel with Bella. "It's okay, I will protect you."

She looked into the rich gold of his irises. She'd heard somewhere that you can find out a great deal about someone just by studying their eyes. So she looked, deep and hard, trying to unravel the mysteries behind this kind stranger. The way he controlled his eyes, guarded and watchful, convinced her he had some secrets he'd rather not share. However, she was also certain that this boy meant her no harm. And just like that, right then and there, she fell in love with his eyes, because, in them, she had found her resolve; she made a choice.

Every bone and muscle in her body still ached and throbbed from her earlier experience but she gathered the strength to lift an arm, entrusting her hand to Edward. Such a simple act, yet it meant so much.

His features momentarily betrayed the hint of surprise he felt when she bestowed upon him her faith.

She smiled weakly at him—the action made her cheekbones ache but she ignored the pain; it was only physical after all. "I trust you."

That smile made him feel alive again for the first time after almost a century of emptiness. He returned it with a crooked grin of his own. "That's good to know."

With her fragile fingers interlaced with his, he carefully pulled her up. Even under his grasp, her legs wobbled, thus he deemed it unsafe to let go of her hand.

"Can you stand?" he asked tenderly.

She doubted it. Nevertheless, she tried—even in situations like this, she was stubborn. As soon as her feet were flat on the ground and Edward relinquished his hold on her, the legs that had started to cooperate up until that point gave out and she fell forwards.

Luckily, he was there to catch her.

Edward smiled down at the slender girl in his arms. "There's no need to rush; healing takes time. I'll find somewhere safe for you to stay; all you need to do right now is rest."

But she couldn't rest. Even if her senses were pleading for sleep, even if her legs felt like jelly beneath her, she couldn't bear to let herself lapse into unconsciousness; it would mean taking her eyes off this beautiful savior from heaven. And maybe, when she woke up, he would be gone. It was stupid to cling to this foolish illusion of an angel, but what else did she have at the moment? It was a gamble, and she was willing to take a chance on him.

* * *

**A/N: So, should I continue? I normally only post stories that I've thought out the entire plot and ending for, whereas this has only been forming itself in my mind for a day. I was going to wait to publish it but then I checked today's date and I thought, "Hmm, June 20th? That seems important..." Then I got on Wikipedia and found out that it's Edward's birthday! So, in honour of the sexiest vampire in the world turning 108 and still looking as gorgeous as a 17-year-old, I present to you my first Twilight story.**


	2. So Many Things That I Want You To Know

Edward hoisted the girl higher in his arms, securing her against his rock-hard chest. If it wasn't for the fear and worry etched into his face, he would have looked just like a prince out of a fairytale, ready to whisk his princess away to some faraway castle.

And so, they were all ready to escape the dim confines of the alleyway. But there was still one problem.

"You need to be asleep for this," he said softly to Bella.

She immediately started to worry. "Why? Are you going to leave?"

"No, I'm taking you somewhere safe, like I promised. I just can't let you see how we're getting there."

"I won't go to sleep."

"Then I have no choice." Edward turned his head to look over his shoulder at his accomplice. "Carlisle, I'm going to need _that_."

The man nodded and reached into a pocket on the inside of his heavy coat, retrieving a small item. And then, almost in a flash, he was standing right in front of Bella, holding her wrist in one hand and a sharp object in the other. Before she could object, he pressed the syringe into her arm.

"Sorry about that," he whispered.

A wave of drowsiness was quickly overcoming her senses. Had she not been so drained, she still could not have fought it; the remedy was strong—Carlisle had perfected the formula to make it take effect almost immediately. Her eyelids struggled to stay open, and, within a minute, all consciousness had left her body.

_You know I don't like doing that, Edward, _Carlisle thought afterwards, finding it safer not to speak aloud. There was no point in using voice to converse with a mind reader anyway.

"I know, but there was no other way," he assured. "I don't think she could have handled the truth. Not tonight, at least."

_But she does seem like a tough one. Maybe she will stick around long enough to come to terms with it._

"Perhaps." He wanted to agree entirely, but he had come to know that fate is never that kind.

* * *

**Saving Grace**

Chapter Two:  
_**And there's so many things**__** that I want you to know.**_

* * *

Bella felt an intangible warmth slowly envelope her body. It was soothing, refreshing—a feeling she never thought she'd feel after tonight. The sense of comfort almost made her forget she had no idea where she was. That was until she felt something hard and cold touch her shoulder, and she jolted.

The sudden movement caused the water around her to shift and sputter, momentarily blinding her as she tried to open her eyes.

"Ah, you're awake," an enchanting feminine voice greeted.

After the bathwater settled down and Bella blinked the remaining droplets out of her eyes, she looked down at the unfamiliar girl kneeling on the bathroom floor. Her skin was smooth and pale, beautifully contrasting against her black shoulder-length hair.

"Who are you?" Bella asked. Then something occurred to her, and she began to panic. "Where is he?"

"If you mean Edward, he's talking with Carlisle. Don't worry, he's not going anywhere."

Upon hearing that, Bella let herself relax and sank deeper into the water, leaning back against the interior walls of the bathtub. It was so calming and peaceful that right now she didn't even care for the fact she wasn't wearing any clothes beneath the bubbling liquid that reached her collarbone.

"I'm Alice, Edward's sister, by the way," the dainty girl said. "We aren't really related though. Carlisle and Esme adopted us all a long time ago."

Alice wasn't quite sure what compelled her to tell all this to a stranger. Maybe she wanted someone different to talk to; she hadn't made any new friends in so long.

"Edward is a great guy, though I'm sure you knew that already," she continued in a pleasant tone. "You should understand that Jasper and I are here for you, too. And there's always Rosalie and Emmett if worse comes to worst."

Bella nodded faintly, hardly taking in the information due to exhaustion that hadn't alleviated after the brevity of her earlier slumber.

Before she knew it, she was sound asleep. And Alice continued to talk as if she was still listening.

* * *

Carlisle heard a knock outside his office.

_Come in, Edward,_ he thought, keeping his eyes on the documents in front of him.

Edward opened the door soundlessly and walked up to where Carlisle sat at his desk.

_Was it alright to leave Bella by herself?_

"Alice is with her. She'll be fine."

_That's good. So what was your reason for coming, Edward?_

His eyes narrowed and his voice lowered. "Has there been any news?"

_I'm sure you will be the first to know as soon as he reveals his whereabouts._

Edward's fist came down hard on the wooden table, causing several of Carlisle's photo frames to fall on their sides. "Damn it. Why am I so powerless?" he muttered.

Carlisle reached over to pick up one of the pictures that had fallen facedown on his desk. A sardonic smile played on his lips as he flipped it over and saw which photo it was.

Edward practically growled, "Why do you still keep that picture?"

_It has a nice touch to it._

"It's horrible."

_Do you really think that?_

Carlisle examined the photo resting on the table like he had many times before. And Edward couldn't help but let his gaze wander down towards it, too.

Two tall teenage boys looked at them from inside the old photograph. Standing on the left, Edward saw an image of himself. But it wasn't like looking into a mirror; the photo reflected nothing of what he was now. The imposter stared back at him with murderous crimson irises. But that wasn't the worst part.

It was the second man in the photo that Edward hated most.

"James," he snarled.

Standing beside him in the snapshot with an arm hung casually around his shoulders was a golden-haired man not too much older than him, smiling widely at the camera. The goofiness and humor in his expression here made him look a lot younger then he really was. It spoke of fun and good times, concealing the gruesome truth. But there was one thing that deception couldn't hide: those blood-red eyes.

"You bastard."

_He was once your friend,_ Carlisle lightly reminded him.

"He was never my friend; he was friends with the monster I used to be. It's not the same."

_I know that. But the time you two spent together had a lasting effect on you. It taught you what you valued most and you gained from that experience. _Then he added, almost unwillingly, _It looks like you had a lasting effect on him, too._

"That's for sure," he grumbled. "And that is what makes me sick. It's because of what I did that he continues to target these women. I wish he would just come after me directly. But he knows it's easier to provoke me by hurting innocent humans."

Edward stared at the photograph, the sight of it making him hate himself more and more as time ticked away. Finally, he cracked. So did the frame.

Carlisle watched as Edward left the room without another word. The photo frame he had crushed with his bare hand lay on the desk in pieces.

_What a mess,_ Carlisle mused as he examined the residue. Under the translucent shards of shattered glass, the original photograph still remained unscathed. He picked it up and reached into his drawers for a replacement frame. _You can't change the past, Edward._

* * *

Edward decided to ease his anger by paying Bella a visit.

As he walked into the unlit room, he saw his pixie-like sister standing beside his black leather sofa, lifting a pure white blanket up to Bella's collarbone. Alice had been kind enough to help the latent girl into a pale blue night gown belonging to their foster mom, Esme.

_Hey, Edward._

"Alice," he acknowledged. "How is she?"

_Resting,_ she replied solemnly, turning to face him. _She was hurt quite badly. I found numerous scars and bruises on her body. But it looks like she will pull through. Just give her some time to recuperate and regain her strength._

"Thank you, Alice. Can I be alone with her now?"

She smiled and walked past her brother, leaving him with one last thought before she departed: _It looks like it will work out this time._

Even if she was a psychic, Edward didn't trust their chances. But it was reassuring to know he had Alice's full support. It seemed like Bella felt safe around her, too, which was good.

Smiling to himself, Edward walked over to the couch and looked down at the girl. The large clear window in place of a back wall allowed the glow of moonlight to stream in through the glass and reach Bella's peacefully sleeping form. In this state, she looked so fragile, so breakable, but most of all, she looked so innocent. She didn't deserve to become a victim in this game of vendetta. It wasn't fair.

_I will never let him hurt you again, _he promised as he watched her with guilt-ridden eyes. _I will keep you safe. No matter what._

* * *

**A/N: Just so you know, I'm making this all up as I go along. So chapter lengths and time between updates may vary widely. Any plot ideas/suggestions will be greatly appreciated. Thanks so much for the reviews/favourite stories/story alerts; they really are extremely helpful in motivating me to write. You know, while I was working on this chapter, I had to check my_ Twilight_ novel for details on Edward's room, which reminded me just how unfamiliar I've become with the books (I haven't read the series in over six months now).**


	3. I Won't Give Up 'Til It's Over

Out of reach of the moonlight, a solitary figure stood perfectly still in the alleyway. Hidden in the shadows, he only raised his head as acknowledgement once he heard the signs of his comrade's arrival.

"How did it go," he asked, "Victoria?"

The woman appeared in front of him in the next second. "It looks like they got away."

His crimson eyes sparkled with interest. "Is that so?"

"Yes, I found traces of their scent around here but nothing distinct to give us a lead. It seems they have gotten better at this game." She leaned in closer to him and said in a sweet but deadly tone, "Would you like me to try out a different approach?"

James wound an arm around her shoulder, softly pressing the orange curls against her back. "You've done enough." He crushed his lips against hers in a brief kiss. "Let me handle the rest."

* * *

**Saving Grace**

Chapter Three:  
_**I won't give up **__**'til**__** it's over.**_

* * *

The breaking of dawn came too soon for Edward. He was content just watching Bella sleep the hours away carelessly on his leather couch. It didn't require any effort on his part. That's why he wished she never had to wake up and face reality.

Last night, Alice had told Bella about the formation and informalities of the Cullen family, but it was left to Edward to explain to her the abnormal technicalities, namely the fact that they were vampires.

Even with the whole night to contemplate, Edward could not think of an apt way to tell Bella that the ones who she thought had saved her from death were actually a group of monsters defying life. It wasn't a dilemma where the answer simply came to you out of nowhere. That would be too much to hope for.

Additionally, somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice would tell him that these worries were unneeded; the girl was bound to die soon nevertheless.

Edward would shake these thoughts away, not willing to give in to self-doubt. He tried to convince himself that he was strong enough for this. He had to believe that.

"Charlie…"

Edward's attention immediately snapped back to Bella. She was definitely still asleep, but the words she spoke were unmistakable.

"No… Don't… NO!"

She bolted up from the sofa.

"No…" she said again.

However, when she realized there was no immediate danger here, she relaxed into a more comfortable sitting position. But her breathing was still forced and uneven as she tried to calm herself down. "Charlie…" she muttered in between ragged breaths.

The images flashed through her mind like a slideshow on repeat. Asleep or conscious, eyes open or closed, the flashes continued. She couldn't stop them. They were relentless in their power to puncture her soul.

Red, the shade of blood; it blinded her mind's eye to the point where she couldn't bear to think anymore. It stained the memories and couldn't be washed away with pure thought.

She clutched the sides of her head with her palms, hoping to push the images away. Her teeth bit down hard on her lip, holding back a distraught scream. Her eyes closed up tight, but instead of seeing black behind those eyelids, she saw red.

Edward watched on in anguish, unable to empathize with Bella's inner turmoil but surely able to feel responsible for it. He never liked to see anyone upset but this was simply too much. It looked as if the girl was breaking; as if she was slowly dying on the inside. The guilt hit him hard in the stomach, like a direct blow to the gut. It was unbearable.

It took all of Bella's strength to avoid getting crushed by the weight of her own memories. She could feel them eating away at her sense of sanity. It wasn't something she could fight off for long. In her mind, the descent into madness had already begun. Maybe that explained why she didn't notice the person besides herself in the room until she really looked.

When she finally gained enough control over her breathing, she opened her eyes to examine the surroundings. After all, it's easier to be distracted by something right before your eyes rather than letting your imagination roam free. And so she turned.

She saw him.

It wasn't like the first time. In that dim alley, she got a fair idea of what he looked like, but she hadn't been able to properly see, blinded by darkness and fear. Now, she could truly make out the face of her savior.

His skin was unbelievably pale, more so than she had initially thought. The eyes she had clearly identified as molten gold last night seemed to have turned a shade darker. And his features were arranged in a patent expression of pain. Even so, he was beautiful.

This was enough to hold Bella's attention for the moment. Her earlier thoughts were sent to the back of her mind and all she could focus on right now was this guilt-stricken boy before her. He looked so troubled, so helpless, as he watched her.

Apprehension and exhaustion were forgotten as she carefully pushed herself up off the couch to stand with her bare feet on the thick golden carpet.

Edward briefly inspected the girl. She was wearing Esme's nightdress which hid the bruises forming on her chest and stomach but left her pale arms and legs exposed, large spots of dull purple covering the lucent skin.

"Why are you wearing such a pained expression?" she asked dejectedly.

He turned away and muttered so quietly that she couldn't hear, "It's because of me…"

She took a step closer to him. "Don't move."

He faced her again, intrigued by the command. "Excuse me?"

"I want to see if you're real."

She lifted her right hand and slowly reached for his face.

She let her fingers drift there for a moment in front of his cheek, careful not to make contact. It was like a child playing with a soap bubble. Thou must not touch what thou desire most. She was afraid to feel his pale skin, lest it confirm her fears that he was merely a product of her imagination.

However, all of a sudden, she felt something against the back of her hand. It was so cold she almost yanked her arm right back to her side. But then she realized what it was.

Edward held her hand with his and guided it onto his left cheek.

The skin there was cold as ice, too. Not just that, it was as hard as marble.

"You're cold," she muttered.

His touch had been icy that first night, too, but Bella had been freezing too much to notice; her body temperature had almost matched his.

Edward marveled at the soft hand against his cheek. "You're warm."

* * *

"Well, isn't that sweet?"

Victoria lurked in the trees alone, hiding her fiery hair from view in case anyone happened to look her way. She was being very cautious as she personally knew how enhanced a vampire's sense of sight was. James had also informed her on Edward's mindreading abilities, so she made sure to stay a fair distance away from the grand white manor. However, even with these handicaps, she could perfectly see into the room on the third floor of the house.

The two figures gradually closed the space between them. A hand held a cheek, and words were exchanged. A scene of comfort, that's what it was.

She grinned—a hungry, predatory smirk—and said, "So this is their little hideout. James will be very interested in this."

* * *

**A/N: I was actually meant to be working on my holiday homework but I did this instead (you see, I tend to work best when I'm not supposed to be writing). This is still just a prelude to the action, though I'm not sure what the complication will entail exactly... Oh and if you haven't noticed yet, the chapter titles are lines from Simple Plan's song, _Save You_.**


	4. If It Takes You Forever

"That's very fascinating news."

"It is, isn't it?"

James smirked. "But didn't I tell you to let me handle this, Victoria?"

She whispered playfully into his ear, "You can't get rid of me that easily."

He chuckled and leaned away from her, lowering his voice. "So how did it look?"

Victoria followed suit, entirely business-like now. "Everything's going just as planned. Although," she added, "it looks different this time. Not like with those other girls. I think he might have fallen in love." She said that last bit with a hint of awe.

James instantly snorted. "I doubt that. Edward doesn't fall in love."

"Aw, that's cold. Even bad guys have a heart." She placed a hand on his hard, bare chest. "I should know."

He pulled her hand away. "I know him. That monster doesn't have a heart. Never has, never will."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

* * *

**Saving Grace**

Chapter Four:  
_**If it takes you forever, I want you to know.**_

* * *

Alice had taken Bella to the bathroom to get washed up and pick out some clothes for the day ahead. Thus Edward was left alone in his room. He wasn't complaining though; he needed some peace and quiet to gather his thoughts.

He knew Bella couldn't stay with them forever. It was against the laws of nature for a human to associate with vampires for so long. But he wasn't about to let her go just yet. James was still on the loose, just like he had been for the past eighty years.

Edward clenched his fists, frustrated with himself. _Why haven't I been able to catch him yet? After all this time… he's still out there._

Edward knew himself to be faster, stronger and smarter than James. So how had he not managed to outwit him by now? Was Carlisle right? Regardless of how Edward felt at present, James had once been his friend. They had only spent a few years on good terms but, at the time, they had bonded as the best of mates, ill intentions aside.

He tried not to think of that stage of his life, but it isn't in his nature to forget. His actions then still haunt him to this day.

His family never blamed him; they tried to make it easier every step of the way. Edward couldn't express how much he appreciated their support. However, he was about to learn that there was one Cullen who didn't welcome his new guest with open arms. Not that that surprised him.

_Do you know what you're getting into, Edward?_

She had appeared out of nowhere to stand just outside the threshold.

"What ever do you mean, _Rosalie_?" he hissed back.

_You know what I'm talking about. You can't keep doing this every time without considering how it might affect the rest of us. It's reckless, Edward._

"I don't remember asking for your opinion."

_I don't remember taking responsibility for _her_._

"No one asked you to take responsibility for her!" Edward yelled; controlling his temper had never been a strong characteristic of his. "I brought her here and I am going to protect her! I am not asking _you_ to do anything."

She looked amused. "You're going to protect her?" she repeated in a mocking tone. "Really, Edward, you can't be such a fool as to believe that."

"Can't you just leave?" he snapped.

She could tell he was at his breaking point, and even she wasn't coldhearted enough to provoke him any further. So she turned to depart. However, just before she walked out of the room, she couldn't help but add, "That girl may be the first one to trust you, but just how long will that last?"

And she was gone.

* * *

Rosalie wandered down the halls, golden-blonde hair trailing down her back, still mentally cursing the situation. Cursing Edward's stupid mistakes, cursing James' despicable deeds, and finally, cursing herself for ending up with such a meaningless existence.

As she passed the open door of the bathroom, she briefly turned to glare inside at Bella who sat before the long mirror with Alice combing her long, brown hair.

And then she kept on walking like nothing was bothering her.

* * *

"What was that about?" Bella asked, noting the vicious scowl sent her way in the mirror's reflection.

"That's Rosalie," Alice replied offhandedly, continuing her brushes down Bella's stubborn locks. "She's just a little paranoid around strangers. Don't worry about it."

"She doesn't want me here?" Bella assumed.

"I wouldn't say it like that. Just give her some time."

"Time, huh?" she mused.

* * *

"How are you feeling, Bella?" Carlisle asked.

They had all gathered at the large oval dining table for breakfast. Carlisle, Esme, Edward, Alice, Jasper, Emmett and even Rosalie were there to welcome Bella, each with their own plate of bacon and eggs in front of them. Of course, the Cullens detested the food on their platters, but they endured it with flawless poker faces.

"I'm fine," Bella replied in a small voice. "Thank you for taking me into your home like this."

Carlisle gave a warm smile. "It's our pleasure. Feel free to stay for as long as you like."

"Oh, no, I couldn't," she insisted. "I should call Mom and head to Phoenix as soon as I can."

Edward didn't like the sound of that, but before he could interject, Esme beat him to the punch.

"You really shouldn't, dear," she said gently. "There's no rush. Stay here for at least a few more days and think it through. Besides, have you thought of what you're going to tell your mother when you call her?"

Bella shook her head sadly. "No, I haven't."

"That's what I thought," Esme sympathized. "Take as much time as you need and figure it out first. Otherwise, your mother is going to worry."

This time, Bella nodded. "That's true. I don't want her to freak out over this."

"Then it's decided." She turned to Edward and said, "Bella will be staying with you in your room."

* * *

"I can do this on my own; you don't have to help."

"I want to. Besides, it's my responsibility," Bella replied stubbornly.

The two set the mattress down beside the leather sofa. Edward then grabbed the sheets left on the floor to spread over the makeshift bed while Bella got the pillows, making it look a little more comfortable. They both stepped back to admire their work.

It was then that Bella noticed something she should have realized much earlier. "Where's your bed?"

Edward bit the inside of his mouth. He had grown accustomed to keeping up pretenses and usually had no problem with doing so. He had a watertight excuse all ready for this situation, too, but… he didn't want to lie. Not this time. Not to her. When he thought about uttering those words that would divert her mind from the truth, his chest ached with unbearable guilt.

But, she wasn't ready to discover his family's secret either. So there was no other way.

"Oh, my bed?" he repeated like it so easily slipped his mind. "Funny story, that. Emmett and I were drinking juice up here last week and somehow he managed to spill it all over the mattress." Edward held his hands up in defense, signifying that it wasn't his fault in any way. Bella almost laughed. "Anyhow, the whole bed was sticky as glue and reeked of strawberry so we took it out to get washed and dried."

She couldn't help but giggle a little at that, which made him smile.

They didn't speak for a while, the silence neither awkward nor the most comfortable atmosphere to be in.

"Would you like to come see the view by the window?" Edward suggested in a very gentlemanly fashion.

Bella replied gladly, "Why not?"

He led her to the wall-sized window at the back of his room.

"Wow," she said in stunned amazement. "It's beautiful, yet so… isolated."

That was certainly true. Edward's room overlooked the dense, green forest separating their white house from town. It was like their own private isle where nobody could disturb them. There was a time when the Cullens used to live in normal apartments in the city, going to school or work while blending in with the rest of society, but that was a long time ago. And it wasn't an era they often mentioned in fear of opening up old wounds.

"Why do you live all the way out here?" she asked.

He answered immediately, casually, "We like to keep to ourselves."

It wasn't the exact truth, but it wasn't really a lie either. One would probably call it a half-truth. Edward had learnt to use them to his advantage each and every time he was forced to tell a lie. It made him feel a little less guilty about deceiving the innocent.

"Are you two done yet?"

They both turned away from the window at the sound of Alice's voice, though Bella was the only one surprised to see her there, of course.

The short girl stood in the doorway with a captivating smile that lit up the room. "Esme told me I could take Bella shopping for some clothes and items she can call her own."

Edward seemed pleased at the idea of Bella having some girl time with Alice to ease her tension. "That sounds great."

Bella, on the other hand, seemed a little more averse to the prospect. "Really, you guys shouldn't be doing so much for me; it's not fair to your family."

Alice came and placed both her hands on Bella's shoulders. "Listen," she emphasized, "you _are_ family. This is your home now."

"That is, if she wants it to be," Edward corrected, disguising his annoyance with Alice for jumping to conclusions without giving Bella a say in it at all.

Counteracting that, Alice looked into Bella's eyes, pleading melodramatically like a spoilt little puppy.

Bella couldn't help but sigh. "Let's go shopping, Alice."

She expected the girl to respond by cheering or jumping up and down erratically, but instead, she simply smiled and said, "Thank you."

* * *

They drove down the unpaved road in Alice's yellow Porsche, watching the forest green gradually disappear past the car windows.

They didn't speak, but Bella could feel the happiness radiating from Alice as she maneuvered out of the mass of trees and plant life, coming to the borderlines of the big city. The sun had barely set, but numerous concentrations of light were already polluting the clear evening sky. All the loud music and noises were a little unnerving for Bella after being cut off from civilization for almost a whole day.

She looked over at Alice.

The girl definitely seemed excited; a little jittery, too. The rest of her family wasn't that fond of accompanying her on shopping sprees, so visits to the main part of town weren't very common.

Alice was almost so immersed in the bright lights and neon plaques of the city that she didn't hear Bella ask, "Hey, Alice, can you do me a favor?"

She hastily answered, "Sure," her attention still focused mainly on the shops spread along the side of the road. "What do you need, Bella?"

"Stop the car."

"Huh?" she gasped. Despite her bewilderment though, she pulled over to the side of the road. Many passing motorists sounded their horns in annoyance given that the street was already crowded enough as it was. Alice ignored them while Bella quickly got out of the car.

"Where are you going?" Alice called out to her.

Bella came around to the open window on Alice's side. "I'm sorry. There's something I need to do, and I need to do it alone."

"What do you mean?" Alice asked, still ignoring the blaring of horns around her.

"It's nothing; just something I need to take care of. Trust me, okay?"

Alice had to make up her mind quick. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small object to toss at Bella's hands.

Bella attempted to catch it with her palms, fumbled with it for a moment, and finally held it up to see what it was. "A cell phone?"

"Call me as soon as you're done, or if you're in any danger at all."

Bella could only stand there dazed for a little while. "You're letting me go?"

Alice smiled, though it was strained. "I have to trust you. We're family now."

Bella returned the smile, pocketing the phone and turning to leave. She looked back at Alice once more and called out, "I promise I'll be back!"

"You'd better be!" Alice replied cheerfully. However, the carefree demeanor was nothing but a façade to put her friend at ease. Alice had a bad feeling something was going to happen tonight; she just didn't know what.

_Bella, you better make it back in one piece,_ she thought, _or it'll be my head on Edward's chopping block._

* * *

A hunter hunts his prey into the night. As such, James watched from afar as the defenseless human girl stepped out onto the sidewalk and the car pulled away from the curb.

"I've got you now." A devilish smile played on his lips as he jumped down from his hiding spot.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry about the late update. I really wanted to add chapters on a consistent basis for this story, but since I'm not in my Twilight obsession phase at the moment, it's hard to feel inspired. As well as that, I was on holidays with my two best friends this past week, which meant six whole days without Internet. And now school's starting again this Monday (and I still haven't finished my homework) so I'm not sure when I'll be completing the next chapter. Leave a review to inspire me, please?**


	5. I'll Pull You Up Off The Ground

What's more important: keeping a promise to a friend or keeping that friend safe?

The catch is, if you choose to break the promise and put their safety first, they'll end up hating you for it. On the other hand, if you keep quiet and let them walk straight into the hands of danger, they'll end up hating you for that, too. The only exemption is if that friend has chosen to enter danger of their own accord. Then, no matter what you say or do, there's no turning back for them. And when something goes wrong, they blame themselves and no one else.

Alice had pondered the night away, unable to enjoy the liveliness of the city by herself as Bella's hidden agenda plagued her mind. Sitting in her car now, drumming her dainty fingers against the steering wheel, Alice thought that maybe—just maybe—she'd made the wrong choice. She had let Bella go and finish some unfinished business, so to speak, oblivious as to what that might have entailed.

She hadn't felt right about it, but didn't want to seem too protective. She'd allowed her to leave without protest. But now, the sense of wrongness she'd been feeling all night was growing even stronger; more definite.

She knew she had made a mistake.

Silently praying for forgiveness, Alice took out her cell phone and dialed, waiting until the line picked up before she spoke. "Edward, I need you to come here—right now. It's an emergency; Bella's in danger."

* * *

**Saving Grace**

Chapter Five:  
_**If you fall, stumble down, I'll pull you up off the ground.**_

* * *

It had taken her a while to get here but it hadn't been at all hard for Bella to find. After all, this is where she stayed with her dad even after her parents separated. This is where she grew up. This was her home.

Now, though, it seemed anything but homey.

Their family had been lucky enough to afford such a large house in a city where most people were thankful for a one-bedroom apartment. It was an investment that Bella's mom and dad had worked on together in the early days of their marriage. In the end, it had turned out to be a worthwhile venture, if only for a few blissful years.

Growing up as a toddler, Bella loved the house. She'd run through the rooms with glee and stumble up the winding staircase, one step at a time. Naturally, she got hurt quite often, bumping into walls and the like. Her coordination was never one to be proud of, even as she grew older. Still, that didn't stop her from having fun. Luckily, Renée was always there to kiss her wounds and patch her up. But after leaving home when Bella was merely four years old, things changed.

At first, Bella tried to pretend nothing had happened and continued to live a life of merriment. But Charlie wasn't as good at the healing thing as his ex-wife. "Sorry, Bells," he'd said on one occasion as he crookedly applied a Band-Aid to her forehead. She'd nodded in understanding, the cheerful smile she'd adorned as a kid gone. She realized then that things couldn't be the same anymore.

From then on, she'd taught herself to grow up; to be the mom around the house. Charlie watched on helplessly as his daughter developed the skills she needed for adulthood without a proper upbringing. Several times, he told her to go live with her mother but she refused whenever he offered. Renée had already found someone new to love in Arizona. Charlie didn't have anybody else. So Bella forced herself to stick around until the bitter end.

Who knew this was how the end would look like?

Police tape surrounded the house, those black words on yellow strips forbidding entry to the public. Bella was sure there must have been quite the commotion here last night—after she had successfully escaped—but things seemed to have settled down by now.

They had lived in a fairly quiet part of the city, blocked out of view from the main roads by several tall skyscrapers that stood before it. There was nothing much to see here; just a few houses and vacant retailers that had long gone out of business. A group of kids at school occasionally spoke of how the street brought misfortune to those who lived there, but Bella never listened to them, brushing the gossip off as a hollow superstition. Now, however, she thought that there might have been some truth to the rumor.

Bella shivered at the thought and redirected her attention to the task at hand.

Despite the street's inconspicuousness, it was far from empty. People were walking along the footpaths while cars drove between them on the narrow two-way road, the traffic coming and going equally in both directions. Though it didn't look like anyone was planning to stop as they just used this as a route to their next destination, Bella was still sure someone would notice if she simply climbed over the plastic tape and walked in through the front door.

Instead of arousing suspicion, she chose to play it safe and casually walked around the side of the undersized yard, staying close to the metal fencing posts. There were two more abandoned business blocks directly behind the house so it was less likely anyone from the opposite streets would notice her if she snuck in from there.

Once under the shelter of the shadows behind her house, she looked around for one particular tree that she knew was positioned right outside her bedroom window. She'd first noticed it one day back in middle school when she had left her keys at home. As you would expect, she couldn't get inside that afternoon. Charlie was working late at the police station as usual, so he couldn't help either. After a thorough examination of the surroundings and lots of consideration, she'd climbed up a tree that was outside the fencing but had a thick branch protruding out of the peak to virtually reach her window.

Bella bit her lip at the memory. It hadn't ended well that time. She'd managed to climb to the top but fell as soon as she attempted maneuvering the extended branch. That little escapade had earned her a broken arm and a week in hospital. Nevertheless, she looked up at the daunting tree now, a new determination lighting her eyes. _You can do it, _she told herself, however unconvinced she might have felt.

* * *

James watched the girl gradually make her way up the tree trunk, his mouth watering with anticipation. Last time, he let her get away. He had made her the bait and Edward had come along foolishly—as usual—to play the knight in shining armor. Now, she had completed her role and, like all the others before her, was to be eliminated.

He licked his lips and slipped in through one of the windows on the first floor with ease.

Now all he had to do was wait.

* * *

Bella breathed a sigh of relief once she landed on the smooth floor of her former bedroom. She had been extra careful, and, for once, her clumsiness hadn't brought the end of her.

Her eyes explored the interior of the room, looking at each feature objectively like a magazine critic. Everything was just as she'd left it. And somehow, that seemed like the saddest thing of all. But, just then, something bright in her peripheral vision sparked her curiosity and her focus was suddenly drawn to a photo frame on top of her dresser.

It was late and dark but the moon lingered directly outside her room, illuminating the walls with its glow. Intriguingly, the light now shone straight at Bella's family portrait.

The three of them had been happy in this photo. Bella, as a baby, was being held tenderly in the arms of Renée whilst Charlie stood behind them and held one arm around his wife; the other reached down to grasp Bella's tiny hand. They looked like the perfect family. They _were_ the perfect family. They had been happy.

But those days were over.

Suddenly, breathing felt ten times harder to do. Bella grabbed hold of her chest in a vain attempt to settle her rapid heartbeats. It seemed like her throat was trying to close up, the air unwilling to enter her lungs.

Until that moment, she hadn't properly grieved. She had tried so hard to block out the pain and memories of last night that she hadn't let herself mourn the loss of her father. All the lost emotion she kept inside was finally breaking free—and threatening to destroy her.

Coming home that night to see Charlie lying unconscious on the floor, blood staining the wooden boards beneath him… It had been too much. And then that man with golden hair had appeared out of nowhere and… She wasn't able to handle it. Her mind had found a way to seemingly shut down and become numb like it'd been frozen in ice.

That ice was cracking now. And reality hit her hard.

She was alone.

_Charlie. _He wasn't coming back. She had failed to protect him.

The thought reminded her of why she was here again. She had to find out what really happened. Who killed Charlie? Was it the same one who raped her? But what did he have against their family? She needed answers.

Ignoring the pain in her heart and throat, she all but ran out of the room, down the stairs and into the living room. It was much less illuminated in here than in her bedroom. But she could still make out the large smudge on the floor that would forever be tinted a crimson red.

Part of her was expecting to see her dad's motionless body where it had lay last night. And part of her was disappointed that it wasn't there. She couldn't protect him, couldn't save him; couldn't even take him to the morgue herself.

"Well, hello there."

Her shallow breaths hitched in her throat. She couldn't speak. She couldn't move.

"Ah, forgive me for intruding."

She turned her head slowly, looking over at the darkness behind her right shoulder.

He stood nonchalantly beside the staircase she had come from, positioned several feet away from her. "I think it's about time we finish our little game." His voice was friendly, just as it had been last night, with undertones of sin. "Don't you think?" He took a step toward her.

She automatically took a step back. "Stay away." It was supposed to sound threatening, but came out as a shrill squeak.

He smirked at her resistance, and stepped ever closer. She responded by stepping backwards until her back hit the wall. She felt around behind her for the front door, keeping her eyes on the slowly approaching enemy. As soon as her hand grabbed hold of the doorknob, she began turning it frantically in a panic to get out of here.

It was locked.

"You can't run from me."

Nearing a state of frenzy now, Bella could only think of one thing to do: run.

She bolted out of the room, dashing right past James, and ran for it.

He could have stopped her—easily. But the chase is half the fun. He grinned to himself, giving his prey a head start.

* * *

She wasn't sure where she was going. It wasn't like she could hide from him. She needed a plan, and she didn't have one.

Somehow, she ended up running into the oversized bathroom and desperately locked the door from the inside, hoping it would at least stall him for a minute. She needed time to calm down; to think clearly. She walked to the square overhead mirror, gripping the edges of the sink below to compose herself. The fear and horror was almost tangible in her features as short, ragged gasps escaped her lips.

Her mind couldn't catch up with reality. Every time she tried to come to terms with it, she found herself drawing a blank. And then, all too soon, she was out of time.

"Oh, Bella," a pleasant male voice called from outside.

Her heart froze for a second before going into full panic mode.

She still couldn't think straight. So she did the first thing that came to her. She pressed her back against the door, putting all her strength into it and hoping that, against all odds, it would be enough to stop him.

It wasn't.

The door slammed open easily, knocking Bella to the cold floor tiles.

He didn't even give her a chance to stand as he gripped the collar of her thin white blouse and lifted her up, staring into her unopened eyes, and wondered how much fun he could have with her before she broke. Grinning from the thrill of it all, he dragged her to the corner of the room, into the petite shower stall, and slammed her head against the slick tiled wall.

She let out a pained scream, which James silenced with a long and rough, sickening kiss. She had to find a way out. Her eyes opened painfully to roam the cramped area they were in, searching for some kind of escape, when they came across something that seemed halfway helpful.

James was so caught up in controlling Bella's lips that he didn't even concern himself with what she was doing when she twisted her face to the side and reached for the wall. As soon as she managed to turn the faucet on, a shot of hot water spewed out from the showerhead above them.

Bella was so frozen with fear that the immense heat from the water was lost on her. It didn't hurt James either, of course, but luckily it distracted him long enough to free her from his hold. She quickly took the chance to make a run for it.

He let her go—again.

He had to give her some credit; she was making this quite the fascinating game for him.

* * *

This time, Bella found herself darting towards the once-safe confines of her bedroom. Once again, she locked the door. Though she knew it would do no good, it gave her a little sense of false security.

She was even further distressed than before, out of breath and soaked through. The safety and protection of her home no longer existed in this haunting house.

Without sparing it another thought, Bella headed to the windowsill she had come in from and prepared to jump for the branch. Even if she couldn't make it—which was highly likely—she could at least try to grab hold of the limb and straighten her legs so she could possibly land steadily on her feet. She didn't have any time to perfect a better plan.

Before she could leap, though, a pair of arms grabbed her roughly from behind and literally threw her onto the bed.

She hadn't heard or felt him come in, let alone approach her by the window. She was thankful she had landed on something soft this time but the relief quickly turned to horror upon realizing the weight of her situation.

She was done for.

He pounced on top of her like a cheetah ready to devour its prey. She lifted a hand to attempt a hit at his face but the movement was easily caught. Firmly grasping her wrist, he lowered the hand down in front of her face to add effect as he said, "I'll show you now, why you can never win against me."

Slowly, he tightened the pale, icy fingers around her skin.

She screamed out in pain. The bones inside her wrist were being forced together and felt like they might break at any second. It was pain worthy of being delivered as punishment for the guilty party in a medieval court case; torture, the verdict would state. Bella wasn't sure if there was anything on earth that was deserving of this kind of penalty. Even death would be the lesser sentence.

Suddenly, James released his hold, letting her wrist fall back onto the bed, numb and aching. She gasped out in tattered mouthfuls of air as feeling started returning to her hand again.

He bent forward to whisper in her ear, "You see this strength? It's not human." His mouth opened and his straight, white teeth bit down lightly on her flesh like a caress, careful not to spill blood, before withdrawing and staring straight down into her eyes. "It's the strength of a _vampire_."

Her eyes widened, but before she could articulate a response, James was abruptly thrown off the bed and landed on the other side of the room. She had to blink twice before the sudden change of scene fully registered.

In front of her, acting as a human shield, was Edward. He briefly glanced over his shoulder to look at her, sorrow filling his heart as he saw what a bad state she was in. "Sorry I'm late."

* * *

**A/N: I would have liked to edit this chapter more. Some parts are a bit short and unclear, I know. But, I've been lazy and staying up 'til midnight everyday just to get all my homework done at the last minute. Hope you liked it anyway. Finally, something relatively interesting happened in this story. Hopefully I'll be putting some more action into the next chapter now that Edward's arrived.**


	6. I'll Give You Strength To Pull Through

Bella's screams pierced through the night and sent violent vibrations through Edward's ears. No ordinary human would have heard them (you'd need an oversized megaphone and amplifier to have your voice heard anywhere in this city) but no ordinary human had Edward's heightened sense of smell and vampire strength either.

He had dashed out of the house as soon as he'd received the call from Alice, following the trail of Bella's distinctly sweet scent. It was leading him through the rooftops and toward her former home. As soon as he caught sight of the two-story house, he put as much speed as he could manage into his legs and flung himself at a back window on the second floor, where he had clearly identified the scents of James and Bella. Luckily for him, the window was open and he slid inside with ease.

Just in the nick of time, too.

There was no stopping the fury in his eyes when he saw how James had Bella trapped beneath him like a defenseless little rabbit hiding from the fox. All within the time span of a second, Edward roughly grabbed hold of James' arm and launched him across the room, smashing his head against the wall.

Edward now took his stance in front of the bed, between Bella and James, and turned to examine the girl sprawled out on her back atop the mattress. His eyes narrowed slightly at the sight, sorrow pulling at his eyelids. There was so much he wanted to say and apologize for, but now was not the time.

"Sorry I'm late."

That was the best explanation he could afford to give at the moment.

* * *

**Saving Grace**

Chapter Six:  
_**If you lose faith in you, I'll give you strength to pull through.**_

* * *

Despite being in a severe state of shock, Bella sat up on the bed and looked up into Edward's protective gaze. She attempted to speak but the words got stuck in her throat. She cleared it with a cough and tried again. "Edward." Her voice was hoarse and trembling, but she persisted. "Get away from here." Edward's eyes tightened further at how pained her statement sounded.

"I'm not leaving without you, Bella," he said, adamant in his decision. "Stay right here, don't get involved, and I'll take care of James."

"But—"

He silenced her feeble attempt at a protest by lowering his finger to her lips, and said, half teasingly but completely serious in his decree, "Don't argue; I won't listen."

She pursed her lips and mumbled, "Just don't get yourself killed."

At that very moment, James had regained his composure and propelled himself forward towards Edward. Bella's heartbeat quickened to an erratic pace in that one infinitesimal moment. "Edward, watch out!"

He didn't need to be warned.

It took him no time to turn and examine James' movements as he approached at lightning-fast speed. Edward merely had to extend his arm to prevent the imminent impact. Bella saw that part, but her human eyes were too slow to catch his next actions.

Edward grabbed a fistful of James' shirt and swung him with full force down onto the ground, creating definite dints in the floorboards. "Bastard," he spat out. "I'm sorry, but our little game ends tonight." As soon as he said that, he had to dodge an upcoming fist aimed at his face.

"I've heard that before," James snickered, taking a defensive stance opposite Edward. "And yet, we're still playing." He looked past his long-standing adversary and focused his eyes on Bella, a malicious smile pulling at his lips. Edward noticed where his attention was directed, and hissed.

"Don't you dare lay a hand on her," he threatened.

"Or what?" challenged James, raising his brow. "You'll kill me?" He laughed. "I'm sure, Edward, that even you must realize how stale and empty your threats sound after all these years."

Edward growled, but couldn't think of anything to say in response to that. It was all true. And that infuriated him the most. He could feel the anger boiling inside him, the desire to prove James wrong filtering his vision a murderous red. But before he could try and tear that head off of James' neck, his first instinct was to protect Bella. He didn't want her to see him as the monster he really was. That means he needed to keep her away while he settled this.

Simply asking her to leave would be useless and chancy. So if he couldn't take her away from the fight, he had to take the fight away from her. He briefly glanced toward the door leading out of the room, and measured the distance between that exit, James and himself. With an accurate spatial assessment calculated in his head, Edward made his move.

He made it look like he was about to take a step back, though all he did was lift and tilt his foot backwards, causing James to move forward just slightly. It was enough for Edward to quickly advance and grip the front of his opponent's collar, lifting his feet off the floor and taking them both out of the room. It wasn't that hard a task, but unfortunately, Edward could only ever manage to overpower James in these brief moments of unexplained strength. It was only later that he realized it was his desire to protect that was fueling the limitless power within him. If only he'd recognized that in the beginning, it could've spared them all a lot of time.

* * *

He'd disappeared so suddenly that she had been left stunned, frozen and unmoving on the bed.

When she came to terms with the fact Edward had dragged James away from here to keep her out of their battle, she was conflicted as to what she should do. "Stay right here; don't get involved," he'd told her. Should she oblige?

His opponent was a vampire. And that scared her. It wasn't fear for herself, though that would have made sense; her heart clenched at the fear that _he_ might be hurt.

But maybe her worry was unneeded. Did this new revelation mean that Edward was a vampire, too? Bella wasn't sure, though it seemed to make sense. They obviously weren't like the traditional ones she'd read about in fantasy books; they were real. If that was the case, all she would do was hold him back. And she didn't want that; she didn't want to get in the way.

Bella pursed her lips, contemplating her next move—assuming she had a next move to make.

* * *

Edward pushed James up against the wall, fingers digging into his neck. The picture frames that hung beside them shook from the force. But James only grinned back at his assailant, showing no sign of fear. "Have you told her yet?" He noticed how Edward seemed to blanch at that, so he continued, "About what you've done? What you are?"

Edward bared his teeth and growled, animalistic instincts taking over his senses.

"That's what I thought."

With that, James raised his leg and kicked Edward square in the chest, freeing himself from the hold that had already weakened thanks to his goading. Edward found himself sliding on his back all the way to the other end of the living room, crashing into the leg of a coffee table and causing a vase of wilting roses to fall and shatter on the hardwood floor. The deep red petals scattered themselves throughout the surface of spilt water from the vase, creating an almost funeral-like effect around where Edward lay on the ground.

"See, that's your problem, Edward," James said, mimicking a patronizing psychologist. "You're weak."

Quickly getting to his feet again, Edward snarled, "Be quiet," and pounced upon the foe, holding him against the ground, palms trapping his face on either side.

"Still think you can beat me, Edward?" James taunted, a smirk pulling at his lips. "How naïve."

Subsequently, in one indecipherable movement, Edward placed one of his hands around James' upper arm, and pulled.

They were both strong. It was anyone's call who would be the victor. But think of it this way: if two whales of equal strength were to play off in a game of tug of war, which one would win? Or rather, say there was a sword which was known to be the greatest blade in the world; a sword that could cut through anything and everything. But then there was the strongest shield in the world. People said that it could defend from every known weapon there was. So what would happen if someone used that shield to guard against the sword? They were both known to have not a single flaw. Would they cancel each other out and neutralize the attack, thus nullifying their immaculate reputations, or would one prove the other wrong?

The truth is, even if two entities share the exact same amount of strength, chances are slim that they will both harness the same power.

It all comes down to a question of will.

If one has the determination and resolve to break through the limits of their strength, they have the potential to cause critical damage, regardless of the target.

Edward thought about how very true that was as he heard the crack in James' right shoulder-blade. "Naïve, am I?"

James clenched his teeth together but couldn't contain the low growl of pain that escaped him. He yearned to clutch at his dislocated arm and twist it back into place. Unfortunately, Edward wouldn't allow him to do that. So he withstood the pain, unwilling to give in so easily. "Don't think… you've won… just yet." The words didn't sound threatening at all; they were weak, labored. They certainly weren't enough to worry Edward in the slightest. He knew, at this very moment, that he had the upper hand. He had something to fight for, and that's why the outcome this time would be different from all the rest.

But James was never one to give up without a fight. And it just so happens that, in this instance, he still had an ace up his sleeve. In all honesty, it wasn't much, but he knew Edward; he knew the effect this would have on him. "I know you're feeling pretty high and mighty right now, but are you sure you should be letting _her_ see this?" He grinned, ignoring his throbbing shoulder muscles, as the expression on Edward's face quickly turned to one of horror. Edward had been so focused on crushing James to a pulp that he hadn't even noticed the presence of another figure enter the room.

His head spun towards the top of the staircase where Bella now stood, frozen with a look of pure horror in her eyes. "I told you to stay away," he mumbled to himself, half in reproach and half in sorrow.

James saw his chance then, and he took it.

His left hand found no trouble in pushing Edward's chest away and knocking him back, landing him on the floor, face towards the ceiling. There was no retaliation; no resistance. Fighting was all about willpower. And Edward couldn't muster his while he looked into those fearful eyes. She was frightened; frightened because of him, because of what he was, because of what he was doing.

James could see the resolve fading from Edward's golden irises. He grinned, knowing he was in control once again. "Oh, Bella," he called to the girl conversationally. "How much do you really know about your boyfriend here?"

Edward, straining his legs to stand, shot him a deadly look. "Shut it, James," he hissed.

"Let me tell you something interesting," the golden-haired man continued, ignoring Edward's protests completely. "He's just like me." And he found his face being thrust into the ground.

"Shut. Up," Edward growled. "Do not compare me with the likes of you."

"But it's true," James retaliated, easily regaining footing once more. "You said so yourself, you're a monster."

"Not anymore," Edward assured with certainty. The flame inside him was burning again. It had diminished with insecurity but rekindled with the outrageous lie of James' words.

With his spirit renewed, Edward's eyes flashed with his latest strategy. He couldn't hold back just because Bella was there. That would only end up killing them both. So he gathered the strength in his fists and prepared to give it his all. "I won't let you get away with this. Not this time."

There was no warning, no lead-up; just the sound of James' head colliding with the wall. It was a familiar position; the one they'd started this fight in. Only, this time, it wasn't anger and vengeance that powered Edward's fingers to tighten around his opponent's neck; it was sheer determination and fortitude. He was tired of the games—not just from today, but from the past agonizing decades. He was hell bent on ending it tonight.

James felt the change in Edward's power, too. He felt how the fingers constricting around his neck were significantly stronger—and definitely more controlled—than they had been when the two first engaged in this battle of fists and taunts.

"You've… gotten a little stronger." He didn't realize exactly how restricted his throat was beneath Edward's hand until he spoke. It was a good—bad, actually, depending on whose side you're on—thing that he didn't need oxygen to survive. Otherwise, he was sure to have passed out by now. Though, as he felt the fingers struggle to tighten further, he daresay he was a little worried. And Edward could see that.

"Not so tough now, are you?" he challenged.

James gritted his teeth together, unable to speak, and strained to pull his neck from under Edward's grasp.

"It's useless," said Edward, noting James' failed attempts at escape. "Face it; I've won."

"Not so fast," a soprano voice called from the top of the stairs.

The hairs on the back of Edward's neck stood on end as he looked up to see Victoria holding Bella by the shoulders, cat-like grin in place, ready to dig her claws into the skin beneath her fingers at any second. "Try anything," she said, "and your girlfriend is so dead." Bella was still frozen as she stood there, entirely at the mercy of her foe. The fear and shock she felt before had now magnified tenfold.

James sighed in annoyance, the subtle loosening of the grip around his throat making it easier to do so. Despite the circumstances, he was not the least bit grateful for the disruption. "Victoria, we've been over this; I am capable of doing this myself."

Victoria didn't seem to hear him—or didn't want to. She was relying solely on the tactic she had devised in order to best assist him, even if it wasn't what he had asked of her. She tightened her grip on Bella, and warned Edward, "Let's see you fight back now."

Edward didn't have a chance to worry about her threats, however, as something lithe and petite appeared out of nowhere and easily freed Bella from her captor, flashing past Victoria like a comet. It wasn't hard for him to work out who it was. "What took you so long," he asked, mock irritation in his tone, "Alice?"

The aforementioned girl held Bella behind her back, keeping a safe distance between her and Victoria. "Sorry, Edward; the others were a little unclear on the plan."

"Others?" James repeated, almost sounding a little panicked.

She grinned. "Yes. They should be here right about…"—all of a sudden, they all heard the sound of several windows shattering simultaneously around the house—"now," she finished with a smirk.

Victoria suddenly found herself confronted head-on with two menacing vampires itching for a good fight.

"Well, well, well," Jasper said, "look what we have here."

"This should be fun," added Emmett, the excitement clear in his tone.

Rosalie and Carlisle stood behind them, ready to lend their support, though it looked like the boys would fare just fine on their own. Meanwhile, Esme had gone to join Alice in guarding Bella from the conflict. They were all in position and ready to act.

As soon as James realized what that meant, every one of them but Bella heard him bitterly mutter, "Damn it."

The Cullens knew they had won. And it all happened very quickly after that.

Edward threw James out of one of the few windows that was still intact in this house, and pursued him outside. He would leave the rest of his family to take care of Victoria and keep Bella from harm. He could trust them to be able to handle that much. So, in the meantime, the opportunity to exact his revenge had finally arrived.

"Ready, James? This is for each and every innocent you've hurt over the years. You will suffer, just as they did. And die, as they did."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. I know none of you care about my excuses but I did have many tests and assignments to do for school. Another thing that had me stuck for a while was the story of Edward and James' past. To write their interaction in this chapter, I had to figure out what had actually happened to make James hate Edward. So I wrote that little recount as told by Edward, which will either appear in the next chapter or the one after that, depending on how fast I can get this fight over with. The fight was originally going to end in this chapter but that would've left me with too much to edit all at once.**


	7. Tell Me You Won't Give Up

"You've hurt a lot of people."

"I know."

"You've hurt my family."

"I know."

"And all of it has been to hurt me."

"Correct."

* * *

**Saving Grace**

Chapter Seven:  
_**Tell me you won't give up 'cause I'll be waiting.**_

* * *

The time had finally come.

Edward looked into James' deep red eyes, proof of the bloodshed he'd inflicted upon the populace.

Yes, this was his one and only chance to avenge those murders. And he was going to make the most of it. "You're going to pay for what you've done," he declared, taking a step forward.

* * *

"So, Emmett, do you want to take the first hit?" Jasper turned to his brother. He saw the hunger, the craving for a good fight, in those dark ocher eyes. "I'll take that as a yes," he said.

That was all the prompting Emmett needed.

Victoria couldn't keep up with his movements. She couldn't see them, but she felt them alright. She felt the kick that knocked her off her feet. She felt the punch straight to her gut. She felt the unbelievably strong fingers constricting around her throat, tearing at her hair and overall doing a first-rate job of making her scream out in pain for longer than she could stand.

After a while, though, Jasper had to step in, thinking it was about time to wrap this up.

Victoria was already defenseless on the ground, nearing the brink of passing out, as Jasper told Emmett, "You've had enough time to play. Now, let's finish this."

She was too weak to fight back at this point as the two vampires lunged and hacked at her appendages. Even so, her screams were loud, piercing.

Bella covered her ears. All this time, she had been kneeling beside Alice (the shock of tonight was bound to bring her to her knees sooner or later), who had her arms around the girl, like a shield between her and the conflict. Bella now buried her whole face in Alice's shirt, hoping to drain out the tortured voice screeching for mercy.

And then there was the shrill sound of Victoria's flesh tearing apart, adding to the cacophony of her agonized screams.

Alice wished Bella didn't have to be here for this. Even though her eyes were averted and shut tight, she was still sharply aware of what was going on.

Carlisle and Rosalie simply stood back and watched, letting the boys have their fun. It was only near the end, when Victoria was nothing but a pile of limbs and organs, that they were needed.

Carlisle took a match out of his pocket and lit the heap—which Rosalie had drenched with oil—on fire. The body parts burnt quickly. To reduce damage to the house, Rosalie soon pulled out a blanket she had retrieved from the bedroom, ready to extinguish the flames.

Bella stopped her.

"Don't," she said, her voice small and broken.

Rosalie looked at her questioningly.

"Let it burn."

She obeyed, tossing the blanket onto the mound—not in a way that would smother the blaze but in a way that would encourage it to spread.  
Bella gave her a strained smile. "Thank you."

There was a bit of an awkward silence that followed, though it was broken once Carlisle began making his way down the stairs.

"Where are you going, Carlisle?" asked Alice.

He turned to them, addressing the entire group. "I'm going to check up on Edward."

* * *

He said he'd make him pay.

He said he'd make him suffer.

And Edward always sees his promises through to the end.

Tonight was no exception.

Edward now looked down at James in contempt, no shred of mercy in his cold, hard gaze. He had made him suffer. He had made him wish for death. Yet, he was still not satisfied. He wished he could make him bring back every human life he took away. He wished he could see him make the trip to hell—and then accompany him to heaven to apologize to those innocent souls he destroyed.

But he knew that wasn't going to happen.

He would have to settle for this.

The blows he had delivered up until that point were nothing if not full of the hatred and revulsion he had been waiting to unleash for so long. But he was nowhere near finished.

Fate had other plans for him in mind, however.

"Edward."

He turned at the sound of his name, seeing Carlisle enter the yard and making his way towards them. "Let Jasper and Emmett handle the rest," he said. "Bella needs you."

That reminded Edward of his real purpose here.

He didn't come here for murder. He came here to save Bella and bring her back with him.

Somewhere along the track, he had lost perspective.

There are some things much more important than revenge.

He couldn't change the past; couldn't bring back the dead. He could, however, mold the future in a way that would never resemble anything like the past, and move on.

That's exactly what he was going to do.

He turned to check over his shoulder and found that Jasper and Emmett were already approaching, ready to take over the reins. Before they arrived, however, Edward wanted one more shot at his opponent.

He reached down and gripped James by the neck, pulling him up to eyelevel, then landed a heavy punch to his face.

"Hey, hey," Emmett reproached, having come up behind Edward. "Save some for us."

Edward grinned sardonically, before turning around and shoving James' body into Emmett's eager hold. "He's all yours."

"Excellent," he heard Emmett reply.

There was much pain and carnage to follow. But Edward had already reentered the house at that point, and didn't care to follow the events outside.

* * *

Bella leant against Alice, their arms wrapped around each other for comfort, as she watched the fire burn before her eyes.

Victoria's remains were quickly turning to ash. The flames flickered at the sides of the heap and began creeping across the floorboards, coming ever closer to where they sat.

"We should leave," Rosalie said in a hard voice, "_before_ we burn down with the house."

Bella nodded, but found herself unable to move. "Just wait… one more minute." She wasn't sure why she was still scared.

James and Victoria were out of the picture, the Cullens were there to protect her and, most importantly, she was safe.

So why was she still shaking and clinging to Alice for dear life? What was there to fear?

She didn't know. And maybe that was what scared her the most.

"Bella."

Her body gave a violent jolt when she felt an icy hand on her shoulder.

Edward withdrew his arm and bent down to meet her eye. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have surprised you like that. Are you hurt?"

Physically, she wasn't in such bad shape. Emotionally, however… Well, that was another story. "I'm okay," she finally answered.

Edward smiled at that, before standing up straight again. For a brief moment, she thought he was about to leave, especially now that he had fulfilled his mission in protecting her from James. It was a foolish thought, she realized, as he held out his hand for her to take.

A feeling of déjà vu passed through her, before she worked out why this felt so familiar.

It was just like that first night—a mere twenty-four hours ago. Yet, so much had changed.

She decided to keep this part the same, though, as she placed her hand in his and said, "I trust you."

Edward recognized the resemblance to last night, too, so he played along and answered, "That's good to know."

They were both happy enough to be able to reenact their first meeting, knowing it had been the encounter that saved them both. Edward continued the show by lifting Bella to her feet, his hand still gripping hers tightly, and asked, "Can you stand?"

This time, she knew she wouldn't be able to do it.

Still—stubborn to the end—she tried.

The moment Edward's hand reluctantly let hers go, her legs buckled, and she fell—right into Edward's waiting arms.

He sighed. "You knew that was going to happen," he said, playfully adding a hint of accusation in his tone, "just like last time."

She smirked. "Following that logic, I also knew you were going to catch me."

"Well played." He grinned. "Ready to go?"

He carried her back home in his arms. But, unlike last time, she fell asleep of her own accord. It was because she wasn't worrying about not being able to make sure he was there; she trusted him to stay with her—forever.

"That's right; sleep, Bella," he whispered, noting how intensely her features relaxed after lapsing into slumber. "Rest now; I will explain everything when you awaken."

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I know, short chapter, right? But I just wanted to get the fight out of the way before getting to work on the next chapter, which will primarily be James and Edward's back-story and some other explanations, too. Hmm, I think I've figured out the ending for this story so that it will end up having a total of ten chapters. But, with my fickle nature, you never really know.**


	8. You Know I'll Be There For You

The fight was over.

James was dead.

It was a strange feeling. Everything Edward had been fighting for throughout these past several decades had finally come to fruition.

So what came next?

Rebuilding their lives and beginning to mingle with society again was easier said than done. After all, emotional scars are much slower to heal than physical ones. They're a lot harder to forget, too.

But, before that, there's something else Edward needed to take care of first.

* * *

**Saving Grace**

Chapter Eight:  
_**If you fall**__**, you know I'll be there for you.**_

* * *

Edward sat on his leather couch, watching Bella sleep on the mattress they had put together just yesterday afternoon. It felt like such a long time ago—before the final showdown with James.

A delicate ray of sunlight filtered through the glass of his bedroom window and shone down on her sleeping face.

Bella had had nothing to do with this, but was dragged in by nothing but ill luck. She deserved to know what this had really been about. And Edward resolved to tell her. She needed to know it wasn't her fault her father died; it was his.

* * *

It was well into the afternoon before Bella began to stir.

The setting sun hit her eyelids and she instinctively shut them tighter, before coming to her senses and pulling them open, little by little. She then saw something on the periphery of her vision which made her sit up and rub her eyes clean of sleep. "Edward…?"

She heard a soft chuckle. "You're not talking in your sleep again, are you?"

"What happened?" she asked, barely aware of where she was.

And then it came crashing down on her. "Oh, right."

Edward chuckled again, amused by the fact she could actually _forget_ what they had been through last night.

"Edward."

The seriousness in her tone halted his chortles. "Yes, Bella?"

"How did you know where to find me last night?"

He turned away, reluctant to answer.

"Tell me, Edward, what _are_ you?" It sounded like she already knew; she just needed confirmation.

He looked back down at her, reading her eyes for clues. Among them, he found fascination, longing and just a hint of fear. It was clear that James had spilled the beans. "You already know, don't you?" he said. It was an empty and resigned accusation.

Bella felt a light brush color her cheeks. "Perhaps, but I need to hear it from you."

Edward couldn't deny her heartfelt plea. He captured her gaze, making sure she could trust him, and told her as seriously as he could, "I'm a vampire, Bella."

She kept her emotions in check and continued in a neutral tone, "And your family?"

"We're all the same," he answered.

She nodded. "I see."

It was silent for a while thereafter, so Edward decided to reveal a little more about himself now that the cat was out of the bag. "There's something else that sets me apart from ordinary people, too. It helped me find you last night." He shot her a subtle smirk. "I can read minds."

Her eyes sparkled with renewed curiosity. "You know what I'm thinking?" she asked, feeling a little self-conscious upon learning this new fact.

He shook his head. "Unfortunately, no," he replied. "For whatever reason, yours is the one mind I can't read. I thought it was a bit strange that first night how I wasn't getting anything from you, but I figured it had something to do with the shock of it all. Since then, though, I've come to accept that maybe your mind just doesn't take well to strangers trying to intrude upon its privacy."

The sentiment made Bella a little embarrassed. "Oh, so I'm… weird."

He laughed. "If it makes you feel any better, Alice can see the future. I'm sure you can consider yourself by far the most normal person in this household."

That caught her interest. "Alice sees the future?"

"Well, it's a little more complex than that," he corrected. "She… sees things; flashes of what the future may come to hold. But they're very vague—even more so because she tries to block them out."

"Block them out?" she asked, perplexed.

"Yes," he answered. "She's never really taken well to her special power. So, in a way, she sabotaged her own abilities." He read the confusion in Bella's eyes, and added, "As they say, you can't see something you don't believe in."

"She doesn't believe in her powers?"

"More like she doesn't want to believe," he said. "She just wants to be normal. But I guess, in a way, that's what we all want."

"What's stopping you?" she asked. "Apart from the obvious, I mean. You guys seem normal enough to me. Why can't you pretend to be like everyone else and live out there?" She tilted her head in the direction of the main city.

He smiled a bittersweet grin at that. "We used to, actually. But then… things got in the way."

"Things?"

"Yes," he said. "James."

She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with repressed hope. "He is gone, right?"

As a sign of reassurance, Edward reached down and took her hand in his own. "He's gone, Bella. He's not coming back. Never again."

"Are you sure?" She couldn't let herself feel relieved just yet. Or, more accurately, she couldn't let go of her insecurity quite so soon. She needed proof; cold hard evidence that he was gone—for good.

Edward met her gaze with pure honesty shining through his amber irises. "I promise you, he will never be able to hurt you or anyone else ever again."

Bella let herself relax—just slightly. "You have no idea how much I want to believe that."

His eyes tightened a little. "Then believe it, because it's true. I'm sure of it."

"I know, I know," she said, looking up at him with a sort of self-pity. "I believe everything you say; it's just hard to convince my heart of the same after all that's happened."

Edward couldn't say that he understood, but he nodded, nonetheless. Bella could see the frustration in the motion, and suggested, "Maybe it'll help me believe if you tell me the whole story behind James."

"It's a very long story," he said.

Bella pushed herself up from her improvised bed and took a seat on the couch, crossing her legs in front so she could now look Edward straight in the eye. She then folded her hands and rested her arms on her thighs, and took a breath. She was ready to listen. "Tell me."

He sighed. "Where to begin?"

"Tell me about him," she prompted. "Surely there must have been another side to him."

He thought it over a little. "Well, believe it or not, he was once in love."

"With Victoria?"

He shook his head. "No. She's barely been with him a year. She's nothing more than a pawn to him."

"Then who?"

He sighed again. "I guess I'll have to start from the beginning then." He smiled gently at her. "Ten years after Carlisle changed me, I ran away from home. It was just us and Esme at the time, feeding on mere animals to quench our thirst. I understood enough to know that Carlisle's intentions were right but I was still young and foolish. And thus followed my bout of adolescence, you could say—away from my family.

"Up until one particular night, I simply travelled from town to town, targeting anybody I happened to come across as my prey." He laughed with dark humor. "My life—if you could even call it that—held no meaning whatsoever. There was only blood, murder, and more blood. But, one day, it changed—somewhat."

Bella noted how Edward's eyes seemed to fog up at that, as if recalling the distant past by reliving it in his head. She couldn't pinpoint the exact emotions it was evoking, though. She guessed something along the lines of nostalgia, regret or guilt; perhaps a mixture of all three. While she continued to try and examine his expression, he proceeded with the story.

"I came across James that night. Up until then, I had run into one of my kind once or twice but we vampires aren't the most sociable of creatures; we never stopped for a chat or a cup of tea, and I was glad for that. I was doing just fine on my own. But this time, it was different.

"I had just finished a meal and disposed of the leftovers. That's when he approached me. 'Isn't it better to eat with company?' Those were the first words he said. And that was the basis of our friendship: dining partners." He laughed again, though this time it sounded more of self-pity. "Now tell me _that_ isn't pathetic."

Bella didn't smile; didn't laugh. She watched his eyes and said, "It was a good friendship, wasn't it?"

He didn't lie. "It was—in the beginning. Of course, that was before I knew any better. Then, one night, we were hunting down this one girl. It was as easy and unnecessary as breathing; we'd never needed to put any effort in at all. However, it wasn't our skills that got in the way of killing this particular prey; it was our hearts, you could say.

"I couldn't tell you why or how it possibly happened, but James felt something towards this simple human girl. To this day, I still don't understand the attraction he described—even if I can see into others' minds, it doesn't mean I identify with everything they feel—but I did what he asked of me and let her be; kept her safe for him. I never did recognize why this one girl meant so much to him; she wasn't particularly beautiful and she seemed quite timid, too. When we first set our sights on her as a late-night snack, I thought he would just go for the kill and finish her off there and then; a quick and painless finish. But that's not how it turned out.

"He approached her that night, making it seem like any other chance encounter, and introduced himself. She was a little confused at first, but it seemed she was an open, honest person; she answered his pleasantries without question and went on her way that night with a fleeting desire to see him again.

"However, she didn't actually believe the ephemeral wish would come true.

"From that day on, he started visiting her quite often at sporadic times of the day, always finding some reason or other to explain his sudden appearances. She began finding it a little strange and, at times, frightening. He didn't notice her fear, too immersed in this sensation he called 'love,' but I knew what she was thinking: he gave her the creeps; the way he always knew where she was and what she was doing.

"And then there were the gifts. Flowers, jewelry, books—he gave her all kinds of things. Unbeknownst to her, however, they had all been personally stolen by James, and the original suppliers had all mysteriously died from loss of blood. She had no idea of this; no suspicion of the kinds of deeds he was committing just to earn her love. To her, they were merely trivial symbols of a passing fancy from a mysterious admirer. She never imagined his feelings for her would go any deeper than a simple crush.

"Somewhere along the way, though, their relationship got more serious. She accepted it; took it in her stride. But, had it gone her way, their first kiss would have been their last. He wasn't gentle with his caresses, not that he realized. With every kiss and every touch, he hurt her. But she was too scared to tell him.

"Despite his uncanny tendencies, she believed that, deep down, he was a good man, and wished not to hurt him, though it was still mainly fear controlling her actions then. She told him she loved him, over and over again. It started out as a lie to protect them both, but eventually, even in her mind, she couldn't tell if it was the truth or not."

Edward paused for a moment, and Bella sensed the story approaching its climax.

"One night, James came to me and said, 'I'm going to turn her into one of us.'

"I had been expecting it; he'd been thinking it over for the past few days, putting great consideration into the decision. Still, I couldn't help but feel it was the wrong choice to make. Neither of us had any experience turning a human, and trying it out for the first time would, in all likelihood, lead to the victim's untimely demise. I told him of this, and yet, he still insisted. So I did the only thing left to me.

"I tried to appear as harmless as I could to the girl. I waited outside her school and offhandedly caught her attention as crowds of students left for home. At first, she tried to walk away and pretend I had mistaken her for someone else. After I mentioned James' name, however, she stopped and agreed to listen to what I had to say.

"I told her the truth; the whole truth. It was the only way she would understand and take the situation seriously. She called me crazy, she called me a liar, but I could see, in her mind, that everything I said was making perfect sense to her. She knew it was the truth.

"She asked me how I knew; why I was telling her all this. I didn't tell her what I was, though she already had her suspicions, but I did tell her of James' plans. She was horrified. She asked—no, _begged_—me for a way out of it. My advice was to tell James herself. Surely, he would listen to the one whom he claimed to love with his entire being.

"Things didn't go as planned.

"James chose to change her in an old abandoned warehouse so they wouldn't be discovered. I waited outside in case anything went wrong. I could see into their minds and knew exactly what was going on. I paid close attention. However, I had underestimated James' resolve; I was focusing too much on the girls' thoughts and not his. That's why I wasn't there to stop him when he hit her.

"Their conversation had started out with the girl revealing to James what she found out about him from me. She told him she didn't want to become like him. And he lost it. The type of love he had for her was addictive; toxic. His first priority wasn't whether she was happy or not; he just wanted her to be with him forever. From the very start, their relationship was bound to end in tragedy.

"She cried out in pain for him to stop his strikes, but he was long past the point of reason. His eyes flared with a frenzied madness as he shouted at her to stay with him. In that moment, she knew she did not love him. And she told him. He didn't know what to do, so he beat her; he beat her until she could no longer attempt to dodge his blows.

"I went in there and tried to stop him, but the strength he commanded in blind madness overpowered me. After it was all over, he realized what he had done and it drove him further into insanity. He still believed she had loved him; he accused me of manipulating her into rejecting him; that it was my fault she stopped returning his feelings. He said it was my fault she died.

"He called me a monster. He said I had no heart. And I agreed with him. Even if I knew I hadn't been the one to tear her away from him, all those things were still true. It may have just been a coincidence, but in the many weeks prior to that night, I had been feeling more and more guilt from my daily consumptions of human lives build up within my conscience. So I told James he was right, and I went back to Carlisle to change my ways.

"A decade or so passed, and everything was going just fine. I had learned to follow Carlisle's approach in controlling my instincts, as did the rest of our family who gradually joined us. We were living in an apartment in the city then, all of us leading relatively normal lives. The whole incident with James became nothing more than a bad dream I desperately longed to forget. But I soon found out that the issue hadn't quite been resolved yet.

"My family and I came home from a hunting trip one day to find the fresh corpse of a teenage girl strewn across our living room floor. There was a note, too. It read, 'It's your fault, Edward.' And immediately, I knew it was James. I could practically hear him hiss those exact words at me as if he were right there beside us.

"Naturally, we were compelled to alert the authorities—to give the poor girl's family some closure, at the very least. And then the media got involved. Our family ended up as the primary subject of headlines and live broadcasts across the state. We were even taken in for questioning for many months before the police finally ruled us out as suspects. It couldn't be helped, I guess. After all, we were getting dead bodies delivered to our address like roses on Valentine's Day. That was sure to get people jumping to the wrong conclusions.

"As you would expect, this all took a very severe toll on our family. Many doctors and nurses at the hospital lost their trust for Carlisle, always distrustful and suspicious around him. Esme's friends all but abandoned her. They were afraid to be around her; afraid of what rumors might spread about them, too.

"And then there were the rest of us. I believe you must understand—as I'm sure you've experienced high school long enough—the kind of treatment one receives if a single blemish appears on their immaculate social image. Think of how these little 'incidents' looked to the high-class students at our school. They wanted nothing to do with any of us. It was certainly a dark period of time for all us Cullens.

"In the end, we couldn't take it anymore, and chose to leave. We decided to travel around for awhile, but James always managed to find us again, leaving the presence of death on our doorstep. Eventually, we gave up on blending in with society. We chose secluded areas like this as our home, moving house every now and then to try and throw James' off our trail. It didn't work. And by that point, I was sick and tired of running.

"He knew I would go looking for him sooner or later. But his scent only led me to more of the innocents he'd murdered. After awhile, he decided killing them was not enough. He changed his approach to rape and torture, hoping to get a stronger reaction out of me. I thought this might be a good thing; maybe I would have a chance to save them after all.

"I soon discovered how very wrong my assumption was.

"There were times where I got to the women whilst they were still breathing, but the effect James left on them didn't give them much hope to survive. For instance, I remember the first time I found one who was still alive and conscious. She was quite young—a junior, I presumed—and had been left by a dumpster with only a thin dress to keep her warm. I reached out, expecting to bring her back and save her, but she didn't let me. She screamed at me to get away. She swiped at me not to touch her. It was James' doing. He knew exactly how to leave scars that never fade.

"I couldn't help that girl. So I left her my jacket and prayed for her safety. When it began occurring more often, though, it got harder and harder to just leave them like they told me to, knowing they wouldn't live through the night. So, one day, I didn't listen to what the girl was saying, and took her home. She was kicking and screaming the whole way there. It didn't hurt me, but it did make me doubt whether or not it was the right thing to do. Saving someone against their will is a tricky situation to get yourself into. It made me feel like the criminal.

"For several years after that, I continued to take the girls back to our home, though none of them survived more than a few days. I guess you can't expect someone to keep living if they don't have the will to do so.

"On quite a few occasions, I asked Carlisle if he thought what I was doing was right. He, as always, came up with a complicated list of pros and cons and moral views on the issue. But he didn't have the thing I needed most: a straight answer.

"James continued playing that game with me for several decades until, two nights ago, I found you.

"I thought it would turn out the same as all those other times: you would scream, I would forcibly take you back, and you would die—all because of me. That obviously didn't turn out as I had expected." He smiled then, and she smiled back. "You could say, you were in the wrong place at just the right time."

She tilted her head in curiosity.

"You see," Edward explained, "the fact I was finally able to beat James this time around was due to two vital reasons that somehow coincided because of fate or luck or whatever else you may believe in.

"Firstly, it was still one of James' earlier experiences working with Victoria. Normally, the woman he picks as his accomplice is satisfied with fulfilling every order given to them without question. Victoria, on the other hand, cared too much for him. Instead of caring about what he wanted her to do, she did whatever she could to earn his love. The way she foolishly interfered with our fight is ultimately the reason for James' demise. Although," he added, "I guess I do owe Alice some credit, too, as well as Emmett and Jasper. On second thought, you could sum this one up in a single word: teamwork—something my family used to our advantage, while it was the one thing James and Victoria couldn't handle."

"And the second reason?" Bella asked.

"Yes, the second reason," he repeated. He held out his hand and molded it into the curve of Bella's cheek. She was so warm; it made his next sentence sound like a soft, velvet sigh. "The second reason is you."

"Me?" The shock and disbelief was evident, even in that single word she spoke.

"Yes—because you trusted me and let me help you; because you were determined on living; because you were stronger than those girls before you." He leaned in close to her. "For that, I must thank you." He pressed his lips to hers.

For a second, she was too stunned to move. It was as unexpected as it was mind-blowing. His lips were cold and hard—just like the rest of him—but, against hers, they seemed to soften just a little and even warm in the heat of the moment.

It took her a minute, but, eventually, she caught hold of her emotions and kissed him back.

She was a little inexperienced and rusty, but with Edward, it felt natural—right. She let herself sink into the moment and forget about everything else.

The healing process had begun.

She wasn't sure how long it would take. She wasn't even sure things could ever really go back to the way they were.

But she had time.

And she had Edward.

Would that be enough, she wondered.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry about the wait. There was this anime convention/festival on August 21-23 that I'd been looking forward to since last year, so I spent the preceding week preparing my costume and the following week recovering from the awesomeness of it all (and catching up on schoolwork, of course, since I skipped class that Friday just to attend). Anyway, this chapter was a real pain to reread. There's probably some plot hole or innaccuracy or some detail I was planning to add but forgot about. But, I'm too tired to fix any of it now.**


	9. If Only I Could Find The Answer

After the whole conflict with James and then clearing up the details with Bella, Edward thought it was finally all over. He thought she could continue living with them, get over the horrors of what she had been through, and they could all live in peace.

He was wrong.

* * *

**Saving Grace**

Chapter Nine:  
_**If only I could find the answer to take it all away.**_

* * *

All in all, the following week seemed to pass without event, effortlessly. But all is not always as it seems.

Edward expected Bella to be shaken up. He even considered recommending her to a counselor. But, by the third day after 'that night,' she seemed to have made a full recovery. She would smile and laugh, happily conversing with his family over all sorts of little things. However, Edward was good at reading people, even before he gained the power to see into their minds. He saw right past her act; he could clearly tell that not all was as well as she made it out to be.

At first, he kept it to himself; he didn't say anything. He thought it might just be her way of coping. But, by the second week, it didn't seem to be getting any better with time. Edward had kept a close watch on her. His eyes would tighten and his hands would clench each time he saw the momentary terror in her eyes whenever anyone tapped her on the shoulder; the way her back would stiffen and her heart would jump.

She made it seem like nothing. She pretended not to be scared half to death each time someone approached her suddenly or unexpectedly made a move to give her a friendly pat on the head. She took the burden onto her own shoulders and didn't let anyone else be a part of her anguish. She was suffering alone, even though she was living in a house full of people who loved her—all in different ways and to different degrees, of course—and Edward couldn't do a thing to help her. Every time he tried, she would only push him away. "Don't worry about me; I'm fine," she'd say.

He _knew_ this wasn't going to be easy; he _knew_ this would take a lot of work. The problem was that he had no idea where to begin. And that's why he decided to consult with the one person he thought would have a solution to his problems.

He knocked on Carlisle's office door, unsure of why he did so—of course Carlisle would let him in. Perhaps he just needed a moment to compose his thoughts.

"Come in."

Edward pushed down on the knob and made his way inside.

Carlisle was at his desk as usual but, this time, he had put aside his paperwork upon Edward's arrival. _Is there something troubling you, Edward?_

He received a slight nod from his son. "Yes, Carlisle, there is. I'm sure you've noticed that Bella has been having a hard time lately, however hard she tries to hide it."

Carlisle had a grim look on his face. _I've noticed._

"So what can we do?" Edward implored in desperation. "How can we make it better?"

Carlisle's thoughts took on an authoritative chime that really made clear his years of experience and wisdom. _Everyone has their own way of dealing with situations like these. It's hard to say for sure, but one thing that seems to work for most people is a distraction._

"A distraction?"

_Yes—something to keep her mind off the current circumstances._

"What kind of distraction did you have in mind?"

His subtle grin began to resemble a smirk. _I thought that maybe you would be the right one for the job._

"Me?" Edward asked, disbelieving. "What can I do for her? Doesn't she need therapy or something?"

Carlisle shook his head. _What she needs right now is to feel safe. And I think you're the person most suited for that._

Edward doubted that last part, but took the advice nonetheless. After all, who was he to question a professional?

As soon as he left Carlisle's office, he went in search of Bella, resolved to spend more time with her and—hopefully—heal her pain.

It turned out to be easier than he expected—though that wasn't exactly an exorbitant achievement, considering his initial negativity towards the plan. Their first kiss had been so natural; every one after that was just as simple as breathing. Edward got in deeper than he ever thought he would with Bella—actually, he never thought there would ever really be any kind of relationship between them in the first place, so the whole thing was unexpected and a little unnerving to him. But, despite all that, it felt right.

Although, even if they were getting along remarkably well with each other, it didn't change the fact that Bella was still scared half to death most of the time—terrified of nothing, really; it was just the interminable fear rooting from the lingering presence of James' actions.

Edward felt like such a failure as the burning acid of guilt churned itself in his stomach.

And so, after yet another two weeks and little progress, he found himself in Carlisle's office once again.

"It's no good, Carlisle," he said, defeated and resigned.

_I take it then that her condition hasn't improved?_ Carlisle surmised.

Edward nodded dejectedly. "I thought it would get better. She does seem more willing to open up, but every time she does, she just… I don't know… she shuts down, in a way, like she simply can't handle it."

_Hmm,_ he pondered to himself. _There is one other way. It may possibly be the most effective. But there are risks involved. And it certainly isn't the most ideal—especially for the people around her. I had hoped we wouldn't need to stoop to such lengths. _He sighed._ I know a way… to erase her memories._

It stunned Edward for a little while before he could open his mouth to speak. "Erase… her memories?"

_Yes—I can make it so that she only retains her memories from before her first encounter with James. She won't remember anything that happened after the incident._ Carlisle looked intently at Edward, giving him a hint he preferred not to think aloud.

Edward worked it out for himself. "She won't remember me…"

_Bingo._

* * *

Edward didn't break the news to Bella until morning.

"Sit," he said, patting the spot next to him on the leather sofa. "There's something I need to discuss with you." He went on to paraphrase everything Carlisle had told him about the procedure and awaited her reply.

She was shocked, naturally, by such drastic measures, but she was also relieved. As much as it embarrassed her to admit it, she couldn't handle what the images in her head were doing to her, and the thought had crossed her mind—more than just a few times—that forgetting them would be the easiest way to take the weight off her shoulders.

But then there was the downside.

"So I won't remember anything about Charlie's death, James, Victoria… or you," she said, adding the last part with reluctance.

Edward nodded solemnly. "That's right," he answered. "All of your memories since that night will be erased—permanently."

She looked down, ashamed that she was so weak to even consider the option. "That's quite a lot to forget."

He explained their plans for after the operation—if she were to choose it, that is. "We'll contact your mother to tell her you're alright—I'm sure she must be very worried—and then we'll send you to live with her in Phoenix. You can start your life again from there."

She remembered the reasoning behind that, causing her lips to pull down in a grimace. "I'll have to find out about Charlie's death all over again," she whispered mournfully to herself.

He tried reassuring her—as he always did, whenever she needed some form of condolence. "It will be easier. You won't have any memory of seeing him that way, and there won't be anything else on your mind to add to the stress. You'll be free to grieve under normal circumstances. Now, I know it will still hurt, but it won't be as hard. Trust me."

She did. Of course she did. How else could she have survived this long without breaking down completely? He's what was keeping her together all this time. But there was only so much he could do. It was a battle inside her head—a battle she was quickly losing—and he didn't have permission to interfere.

That made it so tempting for her to give in to this sweet surrender. She wouldn't have to fight anymore; wouldn't have to lose.

But what of the casualties?

She'd lose Edward. Their nights, their days, their time together—all gone.

Not to mention, there was also Alice and Rosalie and the rest of the Cullens, whom she had gotten so close to in the past three weeks. They had taken her in and treated her like family. What kind of person did it make her if she would so willingly just forget them?

"I'll think about it" was Bella's eventual reply. She had already had so much time to sort herself out, but she still needed more—more than there was and ever would be available to her in the space-time continuum.

* * *

A week later, Bella had a pretty good idea of what she wanted to do. She couldn't hold it off any longer—it wasn't fair to her mother or to Edward and his family. She needed to get on with her life, and to do that, she needed to make a decision.

But, "There's somewhere I want to go first," she said, "before I choose whether or not to forget everything."

"Anywhere," Edward pledged with conviction. "Name the place and I'll take you there."

The way he said it made Bella feel surer than ever of his dedication and commitment to her. She could have told him to drive her to the moon, and he would have done it, had it been within his power—which she didn't fully doubt it would be.

But Bella had a more sensible destination in mind, though still just as momentous—to her, at least.

* * *

They arrived at the location in question late in the afternoon. The wintry sunset now bathed the city in beautifully light shades of orange and yellow—though it was difficult to notice with neon lights already flashing and flickering all over town despite the time of day. It gave off a melancholic feel that, Bella thought, quite suited the viewing.

She had never imagined her house as a pile of ashes and ruins—or anything close to it, for that matter—and if it were not for the extraordinary circumstances of this past month, she would probably have never had to.

But she was here, with Edward, facing the remains of the place she had called home for seventeen years. A tear built up in the pocket of her eye as the memories came flooding back all over again. "Why?" she cried—to no one in particular. "Why did Charlie have to die? He had nothing to do with this."

Edward put his arm around her shoulders, letting her delicate frame lean into him. "Neither did you, Bella," he cooed gently. "Neither did you."

She wasn't quite sure what she had expected to accomplish by coming here. She supposed it just wouldn't feel right to start anew without bidding farewell to this place whilst she still understood the significance it had brought to her life.

She closed her eyes, deep in thought, before opening them again and looking up at Edward with a fire that set them ablaze like never before. "Do it, Edward," she said as the tears trickled down her face. "Erase my memories."

It was what he had expected—and he was glad for that. He didn't want it on his conscience that she would have sacrificed her happiness just for him. That would have been too much for either of them to bear. At least, this way, Bella would be happy. That thought was enough to take away some of the sorrow building itself deep into Edward's heart.

He knew she had made the right choice.

They say there are no second chances in life. So when you are lucky enough to receive one, it seems that the right thing to do is to make the most of it while you can.

* * *

That night, Bella packed her bag.

Esme, Alice and Rosalie had helpfully gathered what they thought were Bella's most prized possessions from her bedroom that night so many weeks ago immediately after their face-off with James and Victoria—before the house burned down shortly after—and brought them back in several cardboard boxes.

Bella looked through the contents now, trying to decipher which would hold the most importance for her once she arrived in Phoenix. She spent the entire night there, locked away in their room. Edward had volunteered to help, but she told him she wanted to do it herself—she needed some time alone anyway. She did get a little sleep in between, but that was only because her eyelids wouldn't cooperate and continued dragging themselves shut.

When she finally emerged the next morning, Edward asked her what had taken so long.

"Nothing in particular," she replied. "I just had a lot of things to organize."

It was times like these when he wished he could read her mind.

* * *

Later that very morning, Bella was told to lie on the operating table they had set up in Carlisle's office, wearing a loose smock like one you would find in a hospital. Edward sat in a chair beside her, whilst Carlisle was in the corner of the room preparing his tools for the procedure—most likely distancing himself from the couple to give them one last chance to say goodbye.

They took the opportunity with pleasure.

They talked about how they first met, how they beat James—though Bella insisted she played no part to help in that, despite Edward's fervent claims—and how they had eventually grown closer than they had ever imagined. Neither of them mentioned the word, 'love,' however—they were both still quite awkward around the subject. Still, they knew how strongly they felt about the other—and vice versa—and that was good enough; it wasn't necessary for them to express their affection into words.

They took up more time than they had expected. Carlisle gave a seemingly inadvertent cough, which alerted both Edward and Bella to the fact that they'd better be wrapping up their farewell.

However, there was still one last thing Bella wanted to make sure Edward was clear on. She took his hand in hers and said, "Promise me something, Edward. When I go back to Phoenix, I want you to come, too. Or at least come to visit. Just promise me that this won't be the last time I see you. Even if I don't remember anything that we've been through together, I want you to be a part of my life—forever."

He squeezed her hand affectionately. "Of course, Bella, I will always be there for you."

"Promise," she emphasized.

"I promise," he said.

"That's all I need to hear." Her hold loosened as she moved to rest her arm back at her flank. She positioned herself the way she would lie on a bed and closed her eyes. "I'm ready."

Carlisle took the cue and came around to Bella's side, syringe in hand. "I'm sorry we had to resort to this, Bella."

She shook her head just slightly, fatigue from her near-sleepless night making her movements sluggish. "No, don't say that. I appreciate you doing this for me; I really do," she said. "Thank you."

With that, Carlisle wished her farewell and injected her with the sedative, slowly but surely guiding her into a long, solid period of unconsciousness.

"Edward…" she mumbled, her strength fading quickly.

For some reason, she had a sudden urge to say it: those three words she and Edward had danced their tongues around for so long but had never quite had the courage to voice out loud. She didn't understand why the words suddenly felt so ready on her lips now. Perhaps it was the knowledge that this may have been the last chance she had to say them—or perhaps it was because she was barely half conscious and her inhibitions had all but faded. Still, she knew she was in her right mind to be able to mean the words when she said them. "Edward… I love you."

He wasn't expecting that, and it took him a moment to respond. "I love you, too."

But by then, she had already fallen deep into the synthetic clutches of sleep.

He sighed, a little regretful, but tried not to dwell too much on it. Carlisle noticed his son's melancholy and directed his next thought at him. _Do you want me to wake her up?_

Edward shook his head. "No, that won't be necessary. None of it will matter in the end anyway."

_Then why did you promise her that she'll see you again?_

"Because it's what she wanted to hear."

_I thought you didn't like lying, Edward._

"I don't," he replied in a hard voice.

He didn't offer any further explanation, but, of course, Carlisle understood. He never doubted his son's judgment, so he ended his questioning at that point and focused his concentration on the real task at hand.

"It's for the best," Edward said to himself, hoping it didn't classify as another lie.

* * *

**A/N: So, the next chapter's going to be the last installment of _Saving Grace_. I wanted to complete this story today on Bella's birthday (September 13) since I started it on Edward's, but my schedule's been quite hectic lately, what with end-of-term tests and assignments and all that, so I guess I'll just settle for ending it on my birthday, which is in exactly one week's time. The conclusion, as you can tell, is going to be a little bittersweet because I think a happily-ever-after just wouldn't seem realistic for this.**


	10. I Wish I Could Save You

Memories stay with you forever. That's why they're called memories; it's a recollection of your past, your life and everything you know. When you lose them, it's like a part of you is gone; like it never existed in the first place. But every one of us has at least one memory we wish to forget, even if it means giving up a part of ourselves.

* * *

**Saving Grace**

Chapter Ten:  
_**I wish I could save you.**_

* * *

"Ready, Edward?" Alice asked, standing by the front door with Jasper at her side. They were clad in heavy jeans and rain coats—the weather didn't affect them, of course, but they had to at least seem appropriately dressed for the sake of appearing normal.

Edward arrived at the top of the stairs in similar attire. In his arms was Bella, held bridal style, who was still asleep from the effects of the anesthetic Carlisle had provided before the operation. "Ready to go," he said, making his way down to Alice and Jasper in a flash.

The rest of his family was spread around the living room, all of them feeling a little mournful. For Carlisle and Esme, it was like losing a daughter. For Alice, Rosalie, Emmett and Jasper, it was like losing a sister. But Edward suffered the greatest loss of all: losing a soul mate.

Nevertheless, he carried on with poise and duty, stepping out into the rain and opening the door to his shiny, silver Volvo. He laid Bella comfortably across two thirds of the backseat and joined her on the seat furthest to the left. Not a moment later, Alice took the wheel as Jasper hopped into the passenger side.

Alice didn't need any prompting; she knew the directions and she knew the building. And yet, she was still reluctant as her foot hit the accelerator and they took off into the morning that was noticeably darkened by the incessant rain.

During the course of the entire trip, Edward never took his eyes off of Bella. He brushed a single strand of hair out of her face; he smoothed out her jacket where it was even the slightest bit ruffled; he did everything he could just to live in the moment with her a little longer.

Edward knew he had a photographic memory and all, but it wouldn't be the same when he couldn't hold her or touch her anymore. The memories would be empty—like words on the page of a book. They wouldn't hold the same meaning; they would only be a reminder of a past he could never bring back.

Shortly after, the car slowed to a stop in front of a tall, luxurious hotel. Edward hesitated, but he knew it had to be done, so he positioned Bella in his arms once again and walked a step behind Alice and Jasper as they entered the grand-looking inn. His mind was in somewhat of a haze the whole way to the reception desk, into the elevator and down the hall of the eighth floor. He finally snapped out of it, however, as they arrived before the room. Alice tapped lightly at the door.

They heard footsteps approach the entrance from the other side before the wooden barrier was pulled inwards, revealing a petite woman in her late thirties standing in the entryway. "You must be Alice Cullen, right?" she asked, giving her visitor a pleasant smile.

Alice smiled back and said, "That's right."

They had planned it all out beforehand. Bella had given Alice her mother's cell phone number so she could organize the preparations for her return. Alice, being Alice, had managed to make up a believable explanation about the Cullens finding Bella the night Charlie was killed and her being too traumatized to remember or tell them anything for the past month. Renée had bought every word of it, just happy that Bella was alive, safe and well.

So everything had been set and in place for this very moment.

"Bella?" Renée half gasped, looking past Alice and Jasper at Edward—well, at what was in Edward's arms, to be exact. "Is that you?"

Alice answered for the unconscious girl. "Yes, that's her. She's still a little weak and worn out, so it's best not to wake her."

Renée nodded stiffly, her lips pursed tightly together as she resisted the urge to cry. "I see," she mouthed, the words coming out shaken and muffled.

"May we come in?" Jasper asked—his first words of the day.

Renée quickly wiped away a stray tear that had somehow escaped her eyes and said, "Yes, of course, please do." She stepped aside to let Alice, Jasper and Edward through the doorway and into the humble hotel room. Edward approached the unoccupied bed by the window side and gently laid Bella to rest atop the sheets. Once that was done, he turned to face Renée with a reassuring smile.

"She'll wake up soon," he promised. "In the meantime, don't worry; she's going to be just fine." He could truly believe that now.

Renée had taken control of her emotions, bottling her tears up for a full waterworks show once she was alone. "Thank you," she said. "Really, you have no idea how much I appreciate you bringing my daughter back to me."

Edward smiled. "I can imagine." He looked over his shoulder and then back at Renée, comparing mother and daughter. "She seems like a special one. Be sure to take good care of her."

Renée nodded fervently, perhaps with a bit too much hysterical enthusiasm. "I know; I will." She directed her question to all three Cullens now. "Would you like to stay for some tea? I must compensate you somehow. My husband's quite the baseball player so we must have some money to spare you somewhere…"

Edward stopped her before she could offer anything more. "No, really, it's fine. We're just glad to be of help. But we do need to leave now as we have some business to take care of. I'm terribly sorry we couldn't stay for tea."

Renée nodded, a little less ardent now. "If you must," she replied understandingly. She walked to the door and left it open for her visitors to depart.

Alice and Jasper approached the exit, ready to leave, when they looked back at Edward. He was still standing by the bedside, indiscreetly watching Bella out of the corner of his eye. "Coming, Edward?" Alice asked.

Edward nodded. He pulled his gaze away from the room and turned to his two siblings. "Let's go."

They made their way back down the halls and to the outside of the building, where their ride awaited their return. It was still raining, but not as heavily as before. There was still hope for clear skies that day. Consequently, the tension in the car wasn't as bad as it could've been when they drove away from the hotel; away from Bella.

As it turns out, Edward didn't use the clichéd "we have some business to take care of" excuse just so they could leave before arousing any suspicion; he felt he had already lied enough for one day. This time, it was actually the truth—though he hadn't exactly planned it out with his family beforehand.

"Where are we going?" Jasper asked. Alice had now 'seen' Edward's plans for them, so he was the only one left out of the loop at this point. It seems the two psychics were in the mood to be mysterious today.

"You'll see." That was all Edward would say, a sly smirk tempting to make its way onto his face.

* * *

Renée was right by Bella's side when she woke up later that morning.

"Mom?" Bella mumbled as she pulled open her heavy eyelids. "What are you doing here?" She turned her head to one side of the bed and then the other, immediately recognizing the unfamiliar environment as a hotel room. "What is this place? Does Charlie know I'm here?"

Renée couldn't help it; she burst into tears.

The reaction confused—and sort of frightened—Bella. Without really understanding the situation, she sat up and leaned over to wrap her arms around her distraught mother. "Mom? What's wrong? Did something happen between you and Phil?"

Renée shook her head. "No, everything's fine with Phil," she half wept. The next thing she did was take in a breath to calm her sobs, and then she said, "You really don't remember, do you?"

Bella furrowed her brows and asked, "Remember what?" She thought back to the last thing she remembered. There was the memory of her walking home from school—was it yesterday? She couldn't recall the date—and arriving at her door, pushing her keys in the lock, turning, and… nothing. Everything past that point was blank. It was as if she had passed out right before she managed to get inside—though she doesn't remember anything about collapsing or feeling especially tired that day—and only just woke up at this very moment.

But there was something wrong with that. Even if today's date escaped her, she could tell she hadn't just been sleeping for one night. It felt longer—much longer.

While Bella pondered over the relevance of time, Renée figured she had to tell her daughter the news. "Honey," she said, voice grave and serious, "Charlie's gone."

"Gone?" repeated Bella, puzzled. "Where did he go?"

Renée pursed her lips, enduring the painful aching of her heart. "He's dead, Bella."

* * *

"Two juniors and three seniors to be enrolled here starting next week, correct?"

After receiving a nod of approval, the administrative manager got up from her seat—"Let me just go collect the appropriate paperwork for that"—and made her way to the back of her office.

Once the woman was out of earshot, Alice opened her mouth to speak. "We're really going back to school?" Her tone was a little apprehensive, but it was obvious she was excited.

"Yes," Edward replied, an optimistic smile on his face, "we're really going back. With James out of the picture, there should be nothing stopping us from living a normal life again."

Alice jumped up onto her toes and wrapped her arms around Edward's neck, resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank goodness."

Edward chuckled and patted his sister on the back. "Get a hold of yourself, Alice," he laughed. "We can celebrate later. Right now, we still have to find a job at the hospital for Carlisle and a good apartment for Esme to fuss over."

"Thank goodness," Alice said again, filled with genuine hope for the first time in so long.

* * *

Bella spent the entire night drifting in and out of sleep, jolting up from the bed several times to escape the startling nightmares of how Charlie's murder may have possibly gone down. Eventually, the sun rose and morning came. Bella was just grateful she didn't have to dream anymore for the time being.

Renée had booked them a flight to Phoenix for noon. They decided it best to leave a little early just in case, so as soon as the first ray of sunlight shone through the generic, beige curtains, they got up.

The packing process didn't take nearly long as either had imagined, though that was probably to be expected, seeing how neither of them had very much baggage to sort out and there hadn't been enough time for them to really settle into the room in the first place. Getting changed and ready to go, however, took a bit longer than necessary—mostly on Renée's part.

While her mother took a long, drawn-out shower in the complementary bathroom of their hotel room, Bella was sitting on the bed, lost in thought, with nothing better to do. There was something bothering her: a feeling in her heart that she couldn't quite place. It was sore; it ached; it felt hollow—like a deep gash or, perhaps, a hole. It was a different pain from the one she felt when thinking of Charlie; it was less pronounced and more… elusive. She didn't quite know what to make of it.

The feeling plagued her for the rest of the morning, clouding her mind to what was going on around her: her mother getting out of the shower, changing into a pair of jeans and a warm jacket, gathering their bags and placing them by the door, and telling her to hurry up. Almost an hour passed and the feeling was still as elusive as ever.

"We're leaving, Bella," Renée eventually called from the hallway.

Bella pulled herself together, taking in a deep breath, and answered, "Coming." She lifted her backpack and slung it over her shoulder before taking one last glance out at the thriving city through the window.

She felt like she was leaving something behind—something important—though she couldn't decipher what it could possibly be. So she shook off the feeling, joining her mother as they began the trip to the airport and into her new life.

* * *

The Cullens were in high spirits, quite a surprising development in their lives. They had found a place to live—not just an apartment, but a house—and each one of them had a career or education to attend to that coming Monday.

They were loading bags and boxes into their numerous cars, not the one bit fazed by the tedious process of packing due to the ecstasy running through their bones at finally being able to resume the life they had left behind all those years ago.

Amongst the excitement, disorder and chaos, Alice noticed the time. She turned to Edward, who was walking beside her to the Mercedes with a stack of heavyweight boxes in hand. "It's noon," she said simply (she figured she'd have to get used to speaking aloud with Edward again, lest she slip up when they returned to school and unintentionally communicate with him in thought).

"What of it?" was his reply, seemingly indifferent to the subject.

"Her plane will be arriving now."

"Thanks for the prophecy; what do I owe you?"

"Edward." She was serious.

He sighed. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"You're really never going to see her again?" Alice asked.

"I don't want her involved with any of us." His voice rang of resolve. "She deserves a normal life with normal people, normal problems and nothing more. We've given her that chance; why be the ones to take it away from her?"

"But you know," she said, "if her will is strong enough, she will remember. Little by little, but, one day, she will realize the truth."

"Impossible. That's just ridiculous," he said. "Don't speak such foolish things, Alice." He turned to reenter the house on the pretense of finding more packages to be loaded into the car.

"Face it, Edward," Alice called out after him. "She's going to miss you, whether she's aware of it or not."

He didn't slow his steps. "She can't miss something she never knew she had."

Alice was persistent. "You may be able to erase her memories, but you can't erase what's already in her heart."

Edward didn't spare her another second, storming into the house and muttering, "Ridiculous." He vowed never to speak of Bella again, no matter how much it hurt and ate him up inside. He had saved her. He had finally succeeded.

So why did it feel like he had lost?

* * *

_~*~_

_Love;_

_that which transcends__ absence, distance_

_and time._

~*~

* * *

**A/N: And that is the end. Wow, this story has changed so much since the first chapter that I wrote on a whim three months ago. Back then, I didn't even have a proper plot, but I imagined it would turn out a lot happier than this. Oh well; not like there's anything I can do about it now.**

**Of course, I must thank all the lovely people who reviewed, favourited and/or story-alerted this story. It means a lot and really helped to inspire me to continue. ****I don't know when I'll be posting my next Twilight story; I need to get back into my obsession phase first. Hopefully that'll happen soon, what with the upcoming release of the New Moon movie and all.**

**Now, I shall be off to celebrate my fifteenth birthday. Thank you, all my wonderful readers, and I hope to hear from you again.**


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